Embracing the Irrational

This is just one of many techniques I used in order to heal well and feel well after tearing my cartilage just eleven weeks ago.

Flying High

I don't know if this is a common sentiment, but I am most grateful for the things I don't understand... like flying safely - or really, flying at all.

I love to travel. Which you'd expect from someone who prides themselves on seeing, doing, tasting and experiencing all that life has to offer. I think it's pretty hunky dory that in Judaism, there's a prayer for distance travel (no matter the means - the point is if you're going from the 'gates' of one city to another) and even more than all of that, I love that I'm privileged enough to be able to carry this prayer with me as part of my travel. It's called the prayer of (being on) the path. Tefilat Haderech. It thanks God for protecting and keeping us, and our wares safe.

In particular, I realized how important this prayer was when I recently flew to Ottawa, Canada for the wedding of two close friends (another story of blessings, which I will share soon). I packed items for the wedding celebration that included "poppers." You know, those new year's items that spew confetti. They're marked flammable and probably contain a small amount of some explosive or other...

Why it didn't occur to me this might not be good a good item to transport in my luggage until mid-flight is beyond me, but luckily my over-active imagination is all that got charged in transit. My wares, along with me, arrived safely and just in time for a wonderful, unforgettable wedding weekend.

So, knowing that I made it through customs and security just fine, my moment of zen is pictured above. I was flying in a small plane and sat in seat 12 a which overlooked the propellers and the landing gear. I didn't know I was holding my breath in our descent until I saw the landing gear come down.

I guess we don't always realize what takes our breath away or what keeps it away until it comes back. In yoga and reiki there is a lot of talk of acknowledging where we are holding. Of the importance breath. Of awareness. It has been a few months since I thought about all three of those things in one idea, but certainly seeing the sun in alignment with the plane wheel as we pulled into the (Toronto - stop over) airport helped bring me that clarity.

I will share more about Ottawa in an upcoming post, the great accommodations and more importantly the two weddings which kicked off November. Just wanted to share my moment of gratitude and the gorgeous shot I captured as we went from being in flight to being grounded, air to earth, safely, soundly and in one piece.

Finding Perfection: Sukkah hopping around NY

Sukkot, which occurs each fall, is a week when traditionally, Jews eat (and live!) in the out of doors. In Israel the air is crisp and the fruit harvest is coming to an end. In New York, it’s cold, usually rainy and the wind nips at you. Luckily we have space heaters and layers and warm soup.

This “nature” experience is tempered, of course, by the lovely huts (called sukkot) we build to recall ananei cavod, the clouds of Glory, which were a sign that God was following us in the desert during the Exodus from Egypt. In the past I have spent my sukkot in two or three different structures and usually enjoy them, a bit.

This year, I had meals in 7 different sukkot, each of them unique. I was hoping to come up with a rating system, but each one felt so special that only the few words of Torah given Saturday morning suffice. A rabbi asks, “How many walls are mandatory in a sukkah?” the answer is “two and some” or two and “ehh” as I shouted out. “Why?” the Rabbi asks. Dead Silence. “Because when you put your arm around someone to hug them, your arm makes an angle and you’ve got two and an ‘eh’ angles. God hugs us when we are inside the sukkah.

Thanks God. I thought I liked being in your glory, but I’m sure I like being in your arms. I tend to find personifying God distasteful, but if You want me to build a structure to symbolize a hug, then I’m happy to sit inside of it and feel loved. If I were waxing poetic I might even call the image beautiful. While some buildings had just the required walls and others had four, mostly it was the company in them that made me feel full on embraced.

Anyway, I resort to the questions children ask on Passover –How is this year different from all others? I usually say almost all my blessings in a synagogue sukkah. Not this year. Though having one meal in the smaller of two sukkot at a local synagogue found us the only guests there – which made the one synagogue sukkah experience I had seem just like it was in my own backyard! But of course, my parents’ backyard is already filled with a sukkah, and I spent Monday night out at their house and in their hut with them. Mom made chicken soup per my request with WHOLE WHEAT matzoh balls and some of the best roasted chicken I’ve encountered. It was a joy to see my parents and to join them in their sukkah – to bench lulav with my dad and take the etrog from my great grandparents etrog box. The etrog is too big now. We get better produce than 80 years ago it seems… even in the business of the etrog! My parents and I took some time for Torah too. Rambam and the beleaguered, orphans and widows and that even when times are tough, we are fortunate to have a home to go to and a hut to eat in! Also cute, the following night when my parents had a synagogue board meeting, they loaned it out to our neighbors. So friendly!

Friends (new and old): Two UWSers hosted holiday meals in their personal sukkot … despite impending rain on both meals, they were LOVELY. One had a fish pond right beside the sukkah. Talk about a glorious connection to nature! The other I returned to during the week for s’mores in the sukkah. A firepit right outside of the sukkah kept us all happy and warm… and the beer and marshmallows did a good job too! Those were moving moments. There is something especially tremendous sitting amongst so many friends in a family feeling, small intimate sukkah built by hand.

So, given that I get so excited about these more intimate experiences, what should have been the farthest from my personal sukkah, one at the Jewish Theological Seminary, is actually the nearest to my heart. Not only because I am an alumna and it was a home to many college meals, but also because of the little plaque very few people probably notice. The sukkah is endowed by my darling ‘family’ Frances and Buddy Brandt. Their granddaughter is like a sister to me (having been my roommate for three years) and the sukkah is in the memory of her brother Oren. This was my most recent sukkah experience and to participate in something l’zecher Oren (in the memory of Oren) added so much more meaning to what has become a pretty common experience. I say these blessings in Oren's memory because he liked to build so much everyone thought he'd become an architect. Also, Oren definitely had the type of relationship with God where they were in a strong embrace. Always. So I sat last night hugging Oren’s memory, and also hugging his sister and his grandparents. I hope we were being hugged by God as well. Because in those moments is where God should be. And I returned today to bless some more. The beauty of a sukkah is often times in the people you share it with. Tonight I’m off to a celebration of volunteers for Limmud NY. And then, outside of the sukkah I will go celebrate another wonderful soul who is headed to Thailand to work on human rights and change the world for the better.

I live a blessed life… and this holiday season has reminded me of that tenfold.