It has been a long time since I have been active as poet rabbi. It feels a bit like the end of an era! Unfortunately, for a while I was not at my best. Living alone with depression is not an easy task. I have been busy with my children's activities, seeking work and planning my daughter's bat mitzvah, and I haven't been to the barn in a long time.
And then there's the other thing.
I am seeking a connection with God and my peers, in community, that serves not only the disadvantaged, but one another. We all have gifts and talents, but being an easy person is not one of mine. I'm challenging. I always have been, ask my parents! I come with baggage, as well as the experience of divorce, depression, and not many resources. I have been blessed by this community with the opportunity to share some of my gifts, insights, and my words. I will be forever grateful. Now I am seeking different opportunities - to develop friendships and company so I don't have to spend so much time alone when my kids are with their dad. I seek a new romantic life companion, and I seek fulfilling work.
I truly hope there will be other opportunities and pathways to share my gifts. I also hope to find a way to teach writing in a workshop format, as well as engage in paid work that I find fulfilling and financially rewarding.
With all of that said, I find myself feeling out of place at the barn. Not because I haven't been valued or appreciated, but because I personally feel needy. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and I feel I am at a different stage in life in that I am raising my family in a divided way, on my own, without family support and an extended community. Simply put, I need more friends, and I need to find a few more oddballs like myself.
I wish you all shalom and shalem, and encourage you to say hello whenever you would like to. May we all be blessed on this shared journey.
Much love,
Sam
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Monday, November 24, 2014
Blessing of Esau
Genesis 27: 34 - 41
11/22/14
The pain - of being wrongly passed over, of being conned by politics, by another's deviousness - we have all felt it. And we often feel murderous in the moment, who could blame us? It isn't fair, it isn't nice, it's not what we would do.
Maybe, over time, we see other things. Not always the "silver lining" but the other blessings that come from a life veered off course from what we wanted, or expected, or even knew should happen.
"But when you grow restive
You shall break his yoke from your neck."
We are yoked by bitterness, disappointment, rage, and hurt. But when we take what we have been given, move into the fullness of what is, not what should have been, not what we wish for, we can find freedom.
We breathe in, we breathe out. We look for the blessings given and withheld, and we move further from the youthful life of what was supposed to be, and more deliberately into what is, now, and we can be free.
Even after being yoked, we can be free.
11/22/14
The pain - of being wrongly passed over, of being conned by politics, by another's deviousness - we have all felt it. And we often feel murderous in the moment, who could blame us? It isn't fair, it isn't nice, it's not what we would do.
Maybe, over time, we see other things. Not always the "silver lining" but the other blessings that come from a life veered off course from what we wanted, or expected, or even knew should happen.
"But when you grow restive
You shall break his yoke from your neck."
We are yoked by bitterness, disappointment, rage, and hurt. But when we take what we have been given, move into the fullness of what is, not what should have been, not what we wish for, we can find freedom.
We breathe in, we breathe out. We look for the blessings given and withheld, and we move further from the youthful life of what was supposed to be, and more deliberately into what is, now, and we can be free.
Even after being yoked, we can be free.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Exodus 25:17-22 Terumah
We Are Always Becoming
Have you ever noticed that once we declare ourselves as X, X starts to shift and change? The edges drift, maybe the job description morphs a little, then a little more, and then all of a sudden X is no longer the definition of what we are any more, but looking back we can see that the new X (or Y if you must) was there all along, it just hadn't expressed itself yet.
We are always many beautiful and contradictory things at once. I am both the really good friend and the selfish person. The giving soul and the needy soul. The wonderful mother and the terrible mother. I'm using extreme judging words because we all do it -- partition off parts of our being into good and bad, thinking if God were to pop in at this moment, how would we be judged? But that's not it.
We are cut from the cloth woven from the strands of all human emotion. Sewn by experience into our own unique garments, moments stitched into our pockets and hems that cannot be undone. This being that is in the center, guarded by the duality of oneness, wrapped in precious metal, carried in whittled wood, held in a tent, surrounded by a courtyard, guarded by a wall, is the precious knowledge that we have to take the whole duality of oneness, the sacredness of vulnerability as the most tender and easily misunderstood gift we have been given.
That our capacity for oneness is honored when we see our capacity to be all dualities, all becomings, in all highly guarded beings. That we are mother/father, brother/sister, lover/friend, son/daughter, wife/husband, pure and flawed ALL the time. And how beautiful it is to be X and Y and Z, you and me, together, stitching time and experience and humanity into dualities and oneness out of one single thread.
Have you ever noticed that once we declare ourselves as X, X starts to shift and change? The edges drift, maybe the job description morphs a little, then a little more, and then all of a sudden X is no longer the definition of what we are any more, but looking back we can see that the new X (or Y if you must) was there all along, it just hadn't expressed itself yet.
We are always many beautiful and contradictory things at once. I am both the really good friend and the selfish person. The giving soul and the needy soul. The wonderful mother and the terrible mother. I'm using extreme judging words because we all do it -- partition off parts of our being into good and bad, thinking if God were to pop in at this moment, how would we be judged? But that's not it.
We are cut from the cloth woven from the strands of all human emotion. Sewn by experience into our own unique garments, moments stitched into our pockets and hems that cannot be undone. This being that is in the center, guarded by the duality of oneness, wrapped in precious metal, carried in whittled wood, held in a tent, surrounded by a courtyard, guarded by a wall, is the precious knowledge that we have to take the whole duality of oneness, the sacredness of vulnerability as the most tender and easily misunderstood gift we have been given.
That our capacity for oneness is honored when we see our capacity to be all dualities, all becomings, in all highly guarded beings. That we are mother/father, brother/sister, lover/friend, son/daughter, wife/husband, pure and flawed ALL the time. And how beautiful it is to be X and Y and Z, you and me, together, stitching time and experience and humanity into dualities and oneness out of one single thread.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Coming to the Promised Land
August 26, 2013
Ki tavo
Deuteronomy 26: 1-3
Come. Bring Yourself. You are here. Settle in. You are the key that fits the lock of your life, the one piece of creation that is yours, and yours to be ours. Claim it. Engage. Ready? Here we go...
I say to your God, this is my piece and I offer it to all of us, to all of Creation, to our ancestors and to those who will come after. This is the land I have been given from which the fruits and gifts, hardships and struggles of my oneness joins yours and resonates through time.
Together we see the faces of God that we see. The fog lifting, the heart opening, an apple when you are hungry, a kind shoulder when you are sad.
Look, next to you, a new land.
The healing we all do is awakening and settling our land.
It's not always easy. The roads of this land are bumpy and twisted. Sometimes there is wreckage, but when we take our place among the many faces of The One, when we stand and claim our own land as sacred, then we bring forth the harvest.
First fruit, new energy. Put it in a basket. Bring it with you wherever you go. Sacred ground is all around us. The faces of YHVH are many.
Settle in. This is your, my, our life. You have the key to let the doors of your life open.
It is amazing, this land.
Your faces are so beautiful.
Ki tavo
Deuteronomy 26: 1-3
Come. Bring Yourself. You are here. Settle in. You are the key that fits the lock of your life, the one piece of creation that is yours, and yours to be ours. Claim it. Engage. Ready? Here we go...
I say to your God, this is my piece and I offer it to all of us, to all of Creation, to our ancestors and to those who will come after. This is the land I have been given from which the fruits and gifts, hardships and struggles of my oneness joins yours and resonates through time.
Together we see the faces of God that we see. The fog lifting, the heart opening, an apple when you are hungry, a kind shoulder when you are sad.
Look, next to you, a new land.
The healing we all do is awakening and settling our land.
It's not always easy. The roads of this land are bumpy and twisted. Sometimes there is wreckage, but when we take our place among the many faces of The One, when we stand and claim our own land as sacred, then we bring forth the harvest.
First fruit, new energy. Put it in a basket. Bring it with you wherever you go. Sacred ground is all around us. The faces of YHVH are many.
Settle in. This is your, my, our life. You have the key to let the doors of your life open.
It is amazing, this land.
Your faces are so beautiful.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Balaam Numbers 22: 22-27
Written on 6/22/13
22 And God's anger was kindled because he went; and the angel of the LORD placed himself in the way for an adversary against him.— Now he was riding upon his ass, and his two servants were with him.— 23 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way, with his sword drawn in his hand; and the ass turned aside out of the way, and went into the field; and Balaam smote the ass, to turn her into the way. 24 Then the angel of the LORD stood in a hollow way between the vineyards, a fence being on this side, and a fence on that side. 25 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD, and she thrust herself unto the wall, and crushed Balaam's foot against the wall; and he smote her again. 26 And the angel of the LORD went further, and stood in a narrow place, where was no way to turn either to the right hand or to the left. 27 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD, and she lay down under Balaam; and Balaam's anger was kindled, and he smote the ass with his staff. (JPS online)
***
We get so mad when we think we're in control of our path, our fate, our ability to get what we want, and then find out we are not.
We think we can see, then proceed blindly into the narrowing passage, hemmed in on all sides, which is a very cramped and bleak place to be. We like options; we like open spaces; we like what we want to happen to happen.
The idea that a holy man (for aren't each of us holy, in our own time?) cannot see an angel of YHVH, but the ass can -- outrage!
I want what I want, which MUST be what God wants, or if not, I can continue to push on and want it anyway.
Not so.
We can box ourselves in really well when left to our own devices. But the connection, the ass, the narrow place, the anger, the blessing -- they must all find their way through us. We must learn to recognize, and see.
Stuck? Bless me.
Hemmed in? Bless openness.
Lost the connection with the divine, the is-was-and-will-be of our souls?
Stop. Listen. Relax. Let go.
Not in control.
On a talking donkey in a narrow crevice.
We can't get out unless we awaken to our own knowing.
Then we can bless everything, and we can find our way once more.
22 And God's anger was kindled because he went; and the angel of the LORD placed himself in the way for an adversary against him.— Now he was riding upon his ass, and his two servants were with him.— 23 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way, with his sword drawn in his hand; and the ass turned aside out of the way, and went into the field; and Balaam smote the ass, to turn her into the way. 24 Then the angel of the LORD stood in a hollow way between the vineyards, a fence being on this side, and a fence on that side. 25 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD, and she thrust herself unto the wall, and crushed Balaam's foot against the wall; and he smote her again. 26 And the angel of the LORD went further, and stood in a narrow place, where was no way to turn either to the right hand or to the left. 27 And the ass saw the angel of the LORD, and she lay down under Balaam; and Balaam's anger was kindled, and he smote the ass with his staff. (JPS online)
***
We get so mad when we think we're in control of our path, our fate, our ability to get what we want, and then find out we are not.
We think we can see, then proceed blindly into the narrowing passage, hemmed in on all sides, which is a very cramped and bleak place to be. We like options; we like open spaces; we like what we want to happen to happen.
The idea that a holy man (for aren't each of us holy, in our own time?) cannot see an angel of YHVH, but the ass can -- outrage!
I want what I want, which MUST be what God wants, or if not, I can continue to push on and want it anyway.
Not so.
We can box ourselves in really well when left to our own devices. But the connection, the ass, the narrow place, the anger, the blessing -- they must all find their way through us. We must learn to recognize, and see.
Stuck? Bless me.
Hemmed in? Bless openness.
Lost the connection with the divine, the is-was-and-will-be of our souls?
Stop. Listen. Relax. Let go.
Not in control.
On a talking donkey in a narrow crevice.
We can't get out unless we awaken to our own knowing.
Then we can bless everything, and we can find our way once more.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
4/27/13 Emor
Leviticus 23: 1-8
Sacred
1 And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: 2 Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them: The appointed seasons of the LORD, which ye shall proclaim to be holy convocations, even these are My appointed seasons. 3 Six days shall work be done; but on the seventh day is a sabbath of solemn rest, a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of work; it is a sabbath unto the LORD in all your dwellings. 4 These are the appointed seasons of the LORD, even holy convocations, which ye shall proclaim in their appointed season. 5 In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month at dusk, is the LORD'S passover. 6 And on the fifteenth day of the same month is the feast of unleavened bread unto the LORD; seven days ye shall eat unleavened bread. 7 In the first day ye shall have a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of servile work. 8 And ye shall bring an offering made by fire unto the LORD seven days; in the seventh day is a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of servile work.
***
We forget, but these are the markers, the days, the ways to remember that YHVH is eternal. These are the rituals to step into the eternality of our existence, each one a stepping stone across the huge river of time in which we get swirled and dunked and tossed about.
But come Friday night, come Pesach, come Shavuot, come Sukkot, you can know there will be a stone beneath your feet, a solidness where the eternal divine and the eternal of this world stand together and open to the truth. When we call for blessing, for truth, for openness, for change, there is a response waiting.
So when you falter, find yourself tugged away by rough current, cut up on the rapids, call out for the opening to the truth of the next stone in time, you will find a moment of rest and comfort on solid ground, and we will remember together that we serve all that is connected in love and time. So We breathe collectively in our hope and turmoil before stepping back into the river to see where the water will take us.
Sacred
1 And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: 2 Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them: The appointed seasons of the LORD, which ye shall proclaim to be holy convocations, even these are My appointed seasons. 3 Six days shall work be done; but on the seventh day is a sabbath of solemn rest, a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of work; it is a sabbath unto the LORD in all your dwellings. 4 These are the appointed seasons of the LORD, even holy convocations, which ye shall proclaim in their appointed season. 5 In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month at dusk, is the LORD'S passover. 6 And on the fifteenth day of the same month is the feast of unleavened bread unto the LORD; seven days ye shall eat unleavened bread. 7 In the first day ye shall have a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of servile work. 8 And ye shall bring an offering made by fire unto the LORD seven days; in the seventh day is a holy convocation; ye shall do no manner of servile work.
***
We forget, but these are the markers, the days, the ways to remember that YHVH is eternal. These are the rituals to step into the eternality of our existence, each one a stepping stone across the huge river of time in which we get swirled and dunked and tossed about.
But come Friday night, come Pesach, come Shavuot, come Sukkot, you can know there will be a stone beneath your feet, a solidness where the eternal divine and the eternal of this world stand together and open to the truth. When we call for blessing, for truth, for openness, for change, there is a response waiting.
So when you falter, find yourself tugged away by rough current, cut up on the rapids, call out for the opening to the truth of the next stone in time, you will find a moment of rest and comfort on solid ground, and we will remember together that we serve all that is connected in love and time. So We breathe collectively in our hope and turmoil before stepping back into the river to see where the water will take us.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Do Not Fear
April 20, 2013
Lev. 19: 9-18
Kedoshim
At times like these, it can become very easy to lock ourselves down into protection mode. To say "mine" and "not yours," to pull in all the way to the edges and leave no generosity behind.
It's human nature, it's fear talking, and yet the words, "I am the Lord" remind us -- to breathe deeply, to unclench our fists, to let as much of the anger as we possibly can, go.
I am the Lord. We are One. A reminder to be fair, even when another is not, to be kind even when the other cannot. To give, even when we fear we have nothing left. We try.
Today, we need the reminder. It can be so easy to flip into us/them mentality, but "I am the Lord your God" -- we are all US, we are all THEM. We all crave peace, we all crave fairness, bounty, kindness, and yes, forgiveness. A reminder that we cannot place ourselves above one another, we are all the fabric of the universe, woven together with stardust and imperfection, cruelty and joy.
May we all stand as one, as fairly, as kindly, as gently, and as generously as we possibly can, before the Oneness of all being.
Lev. 19: 9-18
Kedoshim
At times like these, it can become very easy to lock ourselves down into protection mode. To say "mine" and "not yours," to pull in all the way to the edges and leave no generosity behind.
It's human nature, it's fear talking, and yet the words, "I am the Lord" remind us -- to breathe deeply, to unclench our fists, to let as much of the anger as we possibly can, go.
I am the Lord. We are One. A reminder to be fair, even when another is not, to be kind even when the other cannot. To give, even when we fear we have nothing left. We try.
Today, we need the reminder. It can be so easy to flip into us/them mentality, but "I am the Lord your God" -- we are all US, we are all THEM. We all crave peace, we all crave fairness, bounty, kindness, and yes, forgiveness. A reminder that we cannot place ourselves above one another, we are all the fabric of the universe, woven together with stardust and imperfection, cruelty and joy.
May we all stand as one, as fairly, as kindly, as gently, and as generously as we possibly can, before the Oneness of all being.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Sacrifice
March 16, 2013
Vayikra
Lev 4:27-29
There is the understanding that no one is without flaw or guilt, but here's the thing -- when you know what you have done, really know, you must make the sacrifice.
You place your hand firmly upon the head of whatever your sacrifice is, and you acknowledge the truth.
The slaughter, the true doing away with what has come before, how you/we have sinned, the ways we have gone astray, the ways we have moved far away, as far as we've ever been from the divine, we must lay that bare, blood pouring forth, fat and innards separated until the real meat of it is offered, smoked to an odor that is pleasing to that which is everything -- a vaporous, ethereal, reptilian brain-bridge of scent that crosses the divide of where we have gone, draws us back in, close to the place where we are pure and whole.
All transformation involves sacrifice. All addictions one day demand that we leave them behind or be lost to them; we all have them. Sometimes the hardest part of sacrifice and change is simply knowing where to begin.
The heart will tell you if you stop and listen, mist and vapor lift us up on wings of new freedom, ancient breezes and green leaves and old trees and new seasons.
The reason is always, "because we are holy" so we must give ourselves wholly to the task of unfolding back the giant, quilted past to reveal the intricate patchwork of our world -- our choices, our decisions, our chances, our mistakes, our fate.
We do what we can to draw closer, to move into scented air of divine bridging, of knowing truth, of knowing ourselves, of reaching for God, and we begin again, renewed.
Vayikra
Lev 4:27-29
There is the understanding that no one is without flaw or guilt, but here's the thing -- when you know what you have done, really know, you must make the sacrifice.
You place your hand firmly upon the head of whatever your sacrifice is, and you acknowledge the truth.
The slaughter, the true doing away with what has come before, how you/we have sinned, the ways we have gone astray, the ways we have moved far away, as far as we've ever been from the divine, we must lay that bare, blood pouring forth, fat and innards separated until the real meat of it is offered, smoked to an odor that is pleasing to that which is everything -- a vaporous, ethereal, reptilian brain-bridge of scent that crosses the divide of where we have gone, draws us back in, close to the place where we are pure and whole.
All transformation involves sacrifice. All addictions one day demand that we leave them behind or be lost to them; we all have them. Sometimes the hardest part of sacrifice and change is simply knowing where to begin.
The heart will tell you if you stop and listen, mist and vapor lift us up on wings of new freedom, ancient breezes and green leaves and old trees and new seasons.
The reason is always, "because we are holy" so we must give ourselves wholly to the task of unfolding back the giant, quilted past to reveal the intricate patchwork of our world -- our choices, our decisions, our chances, our mistakes, our fate.
We do what we can to draw closer, to move into scented air of divine bridging, of knowing truth, of knowing ourselves, of reaching for God, and we begin again, renewed.
Brilliance, Longing, Lust
March 9, 2013
Va'yakhel
Exodus 35: 4-10
Bringing our gifts to make the center
All of us have gifts. Rare and common, internal and external; we don't always value them in context, or even out of context, but we can move ourselves and others in ways that are unique and strange, grandiose and small.
Gold. Our brilliance. Our souls. We all shine. Maybe not every moment of every day, but maybe, underneath all the rest, it is every moment of every day. Imagine that. We are gilded in gold, coated in brilliance, shining to matter what the night sky foretells. Maybe we don't always see it, but it's there.
Silver. Longing. The heart. We are one people, one being, one entity, and we long to feel that connection. We long for it in our hearts, in our work, in our friendships, and in our families. We long to be_long. To belong to and be longed for. It is our silver nature, we all have it, we shall not be ashamed nor hidden before God, the Universe, YHVH, the source of what is.
Copper. Lust. The body. Honestly, truly, once we move past the layers of with whom and under what conditions and which social norms we will uphold or defy, lust and the body, the urge to physically connect, is part of us. We all have it. It moves us forward. The urge for pleasure, the urge to please another, the yearning and longing for the gilded future that we know we must create and live in. We use our bodies to build this. This is what we bring to the center, what we carry with us in kind company: brilliance, longing and lust for wholeness.
May we turn toward one another with this awareness and celebrate, not judge; honor, not destroy; for this is what builds the sacred and the future we step into every day.
We all have gifts. Come to love and respect them, value them. Bring them, our brilliance, longing and lust; our souls, hearts and bodies toward the center as we stand together in joy. Unafraid.
Va'yakhel
Exodus 35: 4-10
Bringing our gifts to make the center
All of us have gifts. Rare and common, internal and external; we don't always value them in context, or even out of context, but we can move ourselves and others in ways that are unique and strange, grandiose and small.
Gold. Our brilliance. Our souls. We all shine. Maybe not every moment of every day, but maybe, underneath all the rest, it is every moment of every day. Imagine that. We are gilded in gold, coated in brilliance, shining to matter what the night sky foretells. Maybe we don't always see it, but it's there.
Silver. Longing. The heart. We are one people, one being, one entity, and we long to feel that connection. We long for it in our hearts, in our work, in our friendships, and in our families. We long to be_long. To belong to and be longed for. It is our silver nature, we all have it, we shall not be ashamed nor hidden before God, the Universe, YHVH, the source of what is.
Copper. Lust. The body. Honestly, truly, once we move past the layers of with whom and under what conditions and which social norms we will uphold or defy, lust and the body, the urge to physically connect, is part of us. We all have it. It moves us forward. The urge for pleasure, the urge to please another, the yearning and longing for the gilded future that we know we must create and live in. We use our bodies to build this. This is what we bring to the center, what we carry with us in kind company: brilliance, longing and lust for wholeness.
May we turn toward one another with this awareness and celebrate, not judge; honor, not destroy; for this is what builds the sacred and the future we step into every day.
We all have gifts. Come to love and respect them, value them. Bring them, our brilliance, longing and lust; our souls, hearts and bodies toward the center as we stand together in joy. Unafraid.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Exodus 20:1-15
We, all of us, have dreams. And we, all of us, stand before oneness and are blessed in abundance and love.
All that was promised, all our hopes and dreams, even if unspoken but held in our hearts and soul, are here right now. Stand up, take them.
Look around. Your dreams and my dreams, they may be different, they may be similar, but the biggest tragedy before us is to turn away and decide NOT to want, not to yearn, NOT to long for our own and others' wholeness, our communal completeness, the oneness that can be, and is.
Yes, it's conditional. Believe that YHVH is present for us.
Imagine a superhighway of love. If your great-great grandparents took the off-ramp, your family may wander a long time in Kansas before you, four generations later, find the on-ramp in Weston, Massachusetts.
Here are some of the teachings, the rules to stay on the highway:
Don't kill, don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery. Do not take what belongs to someone else. Keep honesty at the forefront, then forgive and be forgiven when we do wrong.
Work for goodness. Keep the Sabbath. Teach your children. Build your own relationship with holiness and YHVH. Build your relationship with your family and community. Let others do the same, in their own way, then stand side by side, hand in hand, in joy, as we are blessed by love.
Sometimes these tablets of stone are heavy, sometimes they are lighter than air -- that's why we all hold them together as one people, in truth and kindness.
Not just one at a time, but throughout time.
Our ancestors, Moses, Aaron, Miriam, our great-great-great grandparents, all those who came before us, they are still holding them, as we are, for the unseen but glimmering future our children and their children's children will carry forward before our very eyes.
We say "YES," we are blessed, right now... before... later.
Our authentic souls, our together souls, our "one people" soul, stands with our truthful hearts, imperfect and beaming, brimming with real knowledge of success and failure, bound and flowing with golden blessings of love.
We say "thank you" and take our place, hands extended, touching stone and earth and light, now and then, and forever.
All that was promised, all our hopes and dreams, even if unspoken but held in our hearts and soul, are here right now. Stand up, take them.
Look around. Your dreams and my dreams, they may be different, they may be similar, but the biggest tragedy before us is to turn away and decide NOT to want, not to yearn, NOT to long for our own and others' wholeness, our communal completeness, the oneness that can be, and is.
Yes, it's conditional. Believe that YHVH is present for us.
Imagine a superhighway of love. If your great-great grandparents took the off-ramp, your family may wander a long time in Kansas before you, four generations later, find the on-ramp in Weston, Massachusetts.
Here are some of the teachings, the rules to stay on the highway:
Don't kill, don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery. Do not take what belongs to someone else. Keep honesty at the forefront, then forgive and be forgiven when we do wrong.
Work for goodness. Keep the Sabbath. Teach your children. Build your own relationship with holiness and YHVH. Build your relationship with your family and community. Let others do the same, in their own way, then stand side by side, hand in hand, in joy, as we are blessed by love.
Sometimes these tablets of stone are heavy, sometimes they are lighter than air -- that's why we all hold them together as one people, in truth and kindness.
Not just one at a time, but throughout time.
Our ancestors, Moses, Aaron, Miriam, our great-great-great grandparents, all those who came before us, they are still holding them, as we are, for the unseen but glimmering future our children and their children's children will carry forward before our very eyes.
We say "YES," we are blessed, right now... before... later.
Our authentic souls, our together souls, our "one people" soul, stands with our truthful hearts, imperfect and beaming, brimming with real knowledge of success and failure, bound and flowing with golden blessings of love.
We say "thank you" and take our place, hands extended, touching stone and earth and light, now and then, and forever.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
When Almost Ready Becomes READY NOW
1/19/13
Exodus 12:29 - 33
There are so many things we think we cannot do -- until we do them.
This is that moment of DOING, when we discover there is something beyond where we have been standing for so long without even knowing how stuck we are; knowing the benefits of that stuck place.
It is, I want a divorce, I resign from this job, a positive pregnancy test, a diagnosis, a marriage proposal, the death of a beloved. It is the moment we move forward into the physical unknown without a safety net, or we die.
It's the acceptance of the full sum of our lives to this date, and the understanding that we MUST continue and somehow join with something that leads us. Call it YHVY, call it the Universe, it calls us into something larger, more connected, more intimate, than what we have had.
It is our souls' reaching for our natural place. And as we place the blood on our doorposts, take a stand against soul death, it's "Oh shit, what am I doing?" and it's, "I'm terrified!" and it's one step and then another and it's wet and the moon is full and the soldiers are coming and this YHVH killed the first born of the Egyptians, how do we really know we are spared?
We don't. But we go anyway, and tremendous acts of courage are propelled by fear -- fear of death, of disconnect, of the dangers of doing NOTHING. Nothing that leads us to the end, so in our sum total of fear and sometimes shame, of relative comfort and colossal unbeing, we move into that which has not yet been, that which has NEVER been before, and we co-create the future with every single step. And in so stepping, we become what is to become.
We are becoming, with every single step.
Exodus 12:29 - 33
There are so many things we think we cannot do -- until we do them.
This is that moment of DOING, when we discover there is something beyond where we have been standing for so long without even knowing how stuck we are; knowing the benefits of that stuck place.
It is, I want a divorce, I resign from this job, a positive pregnancy test, a diagnosis, a marriage proposal, the death of a beloved. It is the moment we move forward into the physical unknown without a safety net, or we die.
It's the acceptance of the full sum of our lives to this date, and the understanding that we MUST continue and somehow join with something that leads us. Call it YHVY, call it the Universe, it calls us into something larger, more connected, more intimate, than what we have had.
It is our souls' reaching for our natural place. And as we place the blood on our doorposts, take a stand against soul death, it's "Oh shit, what am I doing?" and it's, "I'm terrified!" and it's one step and then another and it's wet and the moon is full and the soldiers are coming and this YHVH killed the first born of the Egyptians, how do we really know we are spared?
We don't. But we go anyway, and tremendous acts of courage are propelled by fear -- fear of death, of disconnect, of the dangers of doing NOTHING. Nothing that leads us to the end, so in our sum total of fear and sometimes shame, of relative comfort and colossal unbeing, we move into that which has not yet been, that which has NEVER been before, and we co-create the future with every single step. And in so stepping, we become what is to become.
We are becoming, with every single step.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Judah before Joseph
MikketsGen 44:11-17
My mother is Director of Human Resources and legal counsel for the Newtown, CT public schools. This tragedy lands incredibly close to home. Selfishly, I am grateful that she has been home recovering from knee replacement surgery, but I know even from a distance, she and her coworkers are broken open. Numb and devastated, heartbroken and traumatized. They need time and healing and soul food.
The impulse for destruction is the Cain in all of us; the need Joseph's brothers had to plan to kill him, then delay that impulse by selling him into slavery instead. And then there is the unimaginable destruction that can happen when that impulse cannot be quenched.
The chaos that follows, the communal healing healing that must follow, breaks us all open. Our hearts and souls stand as one, bear witness and bow down to hold the communal suffering in Connecticut and other places where we are connected and touched.
We are all strangers in the land of grief. We wander the landscape that we used to know, and it is different now. The people we have known before become unknown to us; foreign.
Where are the touchstones that used to exist? Vanished. Unknown. No longer present.
It's like the world that used to hold color is only shades of gray now. Color no longer exists. We don't know if it will return. We don't know who we will be if it returns.
Grief transforms -- and not just for a magical purpose. We may survive, we may reconstitute ourselves and live, but we can never be the same again. We cannot go back to that "before" person. Part of what we have lost is that self we used to be. The parent, the mother, the father, the sister, the daughter, the brother, the son, the friend we used to be.
After this loss, it is no longer.
It reminds us how precious we each are, how vulnerable we are to randomness, violence, and how much we need each other.
Today, our souls reach out to still be there with patience and kindness. To help bear the ration of pain doled out to the Newtown community, because we are one whole, one being standing together.
May they find nourishment among the grief, soul food when they are hungry, comfort and healing as we stand together, broken open but not alone.May the time pass and grant the quiet restraint of Joseph, the standing-as-one of Judah, the wholeness of our brother and sisterhood of humanity, and the compassion and oneness of healing of Yud Hay Vav Hay, as we all grapple with our individual and communal rations of pain. May we find shalom in our hearts and souls as we stand to heal together.
x
My mother is Director of Human Resources and legal counsel for the Newtown, CT public schools. This tragedy lands incredibly close to home. Selfishly, I am grateful that she has been home recovering from knee replacement surgery, but I know even from a distance, she and her coworkers are broken open. Numb and devastated, heartbroken and traumatized. They need time and healing and soul food.
The impulse for destruction is the Cain in all of us; the need Joseph's brothers had to plan to kill him, then delay that impulse by selling him into slavery instead. And then there is the unimaginable destruction that can happen when that impulse cannot be quenched.
The chaos that follows, the communal healing healing that must follow, breaks us all open. Our hearts and souls stand as one, bear witness and bow down to hold the communal suffering in Connecticut and other places where we are connected and touched.
We are all strangers in the land of grief. We wander the landscape that we used to know, and it is different now. The people we have known before become unknown to us; foreign.
Where are the touchstones that used to exist? Vanished. Unknown. No longer present.
It's like the world that used to hold color is only shades of gray now. Color no longer exists. We don't know if it will return. We don't know who we will be if it returns.
Grief transforms -- and not just for a magical purpose. We may survive, we may reconstitute ourselves and live, but we can never be the same again. We cannot go back to that "before" person. Part of what we have lost is that self we used to be. The parent, the mother, the father, the sister, the daughter, the brother, the son, the friend we used to be.
After this loss, it is no longer.
It reminds us how precious we each are, how vulnerable we are to randomness, violence, and how much we need each other.
Today, our souls reach out to still be there with patience and kindness. To help bear the ration of pain doled out to the Newtown community, because we are one whole, one being standing together.
May they find nourishment among the grief, soul food when they are hungry, comfort and healing as we stand together, broken open but not alone.May the time pass and grant the quiet restraint of Joseph, the standing-as-one of Judah, the wholeness of our brother and sisterhood of humanity, and the compassion and oneness of healing of Yud Hay Vav Hay, as we all grapple with our individual and communal rations of pain. May we find shalom in our hearts and souls as we stand to heal together.
x
Sunday, November 4, 2012
How We Grow the Sacred Peace
October 20, 2012
Gen 8: 6-12
Raven
We try the old way. Same dark, same light, same fear, same hope, no change. Same results. A learning.
Dove + No Rest
We try again, something different, and it almost works. There are shifts and changes, but not quite... not quite there yet. This is when we must return to the source, the beginning, go back AGAIN, to pray, hope, wish, think, smile, with the fullness of our souls, the shifting balance of hopes and dreams, of light and dark, day and night. This is when the refinement, the longing, the learning of patience, the growing roots of change, really happens.
We can't skip straight to this step, no matter how practiced we are with our souls, with our failures and hopes. This is the heart of surrender.
Dove 2
We keep going, we don't turn back, we become ourselves again with great devotion. We believe that consciousness and learning, change and faith and patience, goodness and love, are one, and we are one with that oneness. Part of time itself, past, present and future, darkness, light, hope, fear, change, and what must be, and we touch down on the unbefore-sighted-but-imagined peace of holy, solid ground.
Gen 8: 6-12
Raven
We try the old way. Same dark, same light, same fear, same hope, no change. Same results. A learning.
Dove + No Rest
We try again, something different, and it almost works. There are shifts and changes, but not quite... not quite there yet. This is when we must return to the source, the beginning, go back AGAIN, to pray, hope, wish, think, smile, with the fullness of our souls, the shifting balance of hopes and dreams, of light and dark, day and night. This is when the refinement, the longing, the learning of patience, the growing roots of change, really happens.
We can't skip straight to this step, no matter how practiced we are with our souls, with our failures and hopes. This is the heart of surrender.
Dove 2
We keep going, we don't turn back, we become ourselves again with great devotion. We believe that consciousness and learning, change and faith and patience, goodness and love, are one, and we are one with that oneness. Part of time itself, past, present and future, darkness, light, hope, fear, change, and what must be, and we touch down on the unbefore-sighted-but-imagined peace of holy, solid ground.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
The Rock
What a long strange trip its been…
When we go forth each day, we know we’ve done wrong. We know
we are imperfect, and even so, there is love available to us each and every
moment, no matter what we have done. That is joy.
Think about it. We are flung from the stars into this life.
We miss the mark, we hit the mark, we forget the mark, we remember the mark,
and through it all, we are loved and we are redirected.
After this time of profound redirection, profound awakening,
profound experience, we are rooted in joy, but we must continue to go forth
into the oneness of life. Choosing to live in the swirling, moving, ever
abiding love that sometimes shakes us to the core and sends us spinning into
eddies and rivers where we face rapids we have never faced before, and then
gives us gentle springs and floaty days when we really know the bounty and
beauty of YHVH unfolding all around and within us.
These are the moments when we know the pain and glory of
redemption.
To begin again is to believe in something bigger than we
ever imagined. No matter the moment we went astray, the sin we committed, no
matter the fault, even when it’s really bad, we can rejoin the flow.
We are part of something bigger than even that big
moment in time, and we get to choose again and again and again, each season. We
get the chance to demand that YHVH show us the bounty of what is possible, even
though…
So guess what? I am choosing the good stuff.
Bring on the harvest, bring on the light, bring on the joy,
I’m ready for it. I have spent my time with regret. I know it inside and out,
and the only thing I can say is if you house regret in your bones without room
for redemption you will sink like a stone.
YHVH wants more for us, shelters us from the searing moments
that wrench the soul beyond space and time and then sends us back into our
bodies for all we can bear. But here’s the deal: YHVH stands with us. We can
bear this immense pain and this capacity for goodness, no matter the past.
This is our hope and our harvest. This is our joy. We have
been and we will be sacred, in all lights. We are loved. Remember the mistakes
of the past and then let them go. This is a new cycle. We are all lovable. We
are all loved. The only true mistake is thinking we are unlovable.
So go forth into the next cycle. Beloved. We face the
harvest of what we have sown. But we are all worthy. Every one of us, every
moment. Don’t forget. That’s the joy.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Rosh Hashana 5773
O Father, what is this?
He ties me to a sacrificial pyre and he wields the knife -- but I have never loved him more. It is his weakness and his strength, this faith he has in the Oneness of being and becoming, all that is, was and will be, past, present, future all alive in this moment, and I have two choices. I can hate him, or I can forgive him.
This One who calls us to this moment, I have seen him in the gleam and glitter of the knife, the fires my father and I have laid together, and the love that shines in my father's eyes. I know I am beloved. I know this is Yud Hey Vav Hey's (YHVH) will, and my will, and Father's will. So I choose.
I choose life and faith and trust.
In this moment of testing, I will hear. I will love my father and the One with all my heart, soul and might, and I know I will choose life. I know this moment, this call, this knife, will not kill my love for him. I know I will not hate him.
I see his eyes glitter with tears, they are locked on mine and and I feel my own eyes flood with respect and pain and truth. This man is my father, blood of my blood. I have seen him in all of his moments from the day I was born.
We do not lose each other in this moment, but pray mightily for a sign.
The ram is glorious.
My father, my beloved father, stays the knife, unties me, clutches my hand.
"You are my beloved. Forgive me."
I know the truth of this: all that is, was, and will be is contained in this moment. And my father, who was willing to sacrifice his son to God, loves me with all of his heart.
"I do."
Together we are transformed. A people born of light in a moment of obedience and strength, love and truth, given to a God who tests us and loves us, redeems us and grants us hope, even in the darkest moments.
If he had slain me, I would have died with my soul aflame in the truth of love.
Father, bearer of the past, I hold your dreams and darkest fears of rejection in my heart and I love you with the kindness of the world, the glowing future that forgives and redeems.
We will go forth anew. I forgive you.
He ties me to a sacrificial pyre and he wields the knife -- but I have never loved him more. It is his weakness and his strength, this faith he has in the Oneness of being and becoming, all that is, was and will be, past, present, future all alive in this moment, and I have two choices. I can hate him, or I can forgive him.
This One who calls us to this moment, I have seen him in the gleam and glitter of the knife, the fires my father and I have laid together, and the love that shines in my father's eyes. I know I am beloved. I know this is Yud Hey Vav Hey's (YHVH) will, and my will, and Father's will. So I choose.
I choose life and faith and trust.
In this moment of testing, I will hear. I will love my father and the One with all my heart, soul and might, and I know I will choose life. I know this moment, this call, this knife, will not kill my love for him. I know I will not hate him.
I see his eyes glitter with tears, they are locked on mine and and I feel my own eyes flood with respect and pain and truth. This man is my father, blood of my blood. I have seen him in all of his moments from the day I was born.
We do not lose each other in this moment, but pray mightily for a sign.
The ram is glorious.
My father, my beloved father, stays the knife, unties me, clutches my hand.
"You are my beloved. Forgive me."
I know the truth of this: all that is, was, and will be is contained in this moment. And my father, who was willing to sacrifice his son to God, loves me with all of his heart.
"I do."
Together we are transformed. A people born of light in a moment of obedience and strength, love and truth, given to a God who tests us and loves us, redeems us and grants us hope, even in the darkest moments.
If he had slain me, I would have died with my soul aflame in the truth of love.
Father, bearer of the past, I hold your dreams and darkest fears of rejection in my heart and I love you with the kindness of the world, the glowing future that forgives and redeems.
We will go forth anew. I forgive you.
Erev Rosh Hashanah 9/16/12
Tonight we are moths to flame with wings afire, opened by kindness, the fireflies of forgiveness easing out of the shadows, and still we are aloft, ever higher, many bushes burning, the way we have always been, the way we were born to be.
We return to the light, to the source, and we remember the one home that has never been separate, and the cloud of us, high and burning, sets the night sky to flame and we know the way, it is finally clear. The way that is behind and ahead, the way that is was and will always be, and tonight, bathed in the fire of our divine spark, we dance.
We return to the light, to the source, and we remember the one home that has never been separate, and the cloud of us, high and burning, sets the night sky to flame and we know the way, it is finally clear. The way that is behind and ahead, the way that is was and will always be, and tonight, bathed in the fire of our divine spark, we dance.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
A Restless Heart
Deut 28: 64 - 68
9/8/12
We all have times when we realize the goals we are striving for, the ways we are living, the ways we treat ourselves and others, do not serve us how we had hoped.
We lose our way. We are not serving the god, the path, the universe that sustains us, fulfills us and brings us into the Promised Land. We know we want more, but the more we have been defining for ourselves in not working; it's not useful. So what do we do?
It usually includes some kind of awakening that can look very much like a breakdown. We become lost, we realize that we may never have known the way, but there is a promise here: there is a way. Tried and true. It's not x+y=z, but it is a turning, or returning, to YHVH, all that is, was and will be.
We must find the others who have been scattered. We must gather and seek and heal. Our hearts are heavy, our lives have been spent in exile, long stretches or moments or wrong action, but we do have a home. We've suffered the consequences -- we can see it, no matter how much we have accomplished or acquired, and we live with those consequences. And the road ahead is HARD.
But it is do-able.
You/me/we will spend the rest of our lives doing it, turning and returning, living through our choices and circumstances.
So go forth, no matter how scattered we are, no matter how dire the pain of consequences have been. We can start now. We can do it. There is a home, a way to turn and return, YHVH is there for us. So keep walking. Shift your focus, but keep going -- it's there for us all -- right here, and here, and there. Do-able. Keep walking.
Your heart and soul can heal.
9/8/12
We all have times when we realize the goals we are striving for, the ways we are living, the ways we treat ourselves and others, do not serve us how we had hoped.
We lose our way. We are not serving the god, the path, the universe that sustains us, fulfills us and brings us into the Promised Land. We know we want more, but the more we have been defining for ourselves in not working; it's not useful. So what do we do?
It usually includes some kind of awakening that can look very much like a breakdown. We become lost, we realize that we may never have known the way, but there is a promise here: there is a way. Tried and true. It's not x+y=z, but it is a turning, or returning, to YHVH, all that is, was and will be.
We must find the others who have been scattered. We must gather and seek and heal. Our hearts are heavy, our lives have been spent in exile, long stretches or moments or wrong action, but we do have a home. We've suffered the consequences -- we can see it, no matter how much we have accomplished or acquired, and we live with those consequences. And the road ahead is HARD.
But it is do-able.
You/me/we will spend the rest of our lives doing it, turning and returning, living through our choices and circumstances.
So go forth, no matter how scattered we are, no matter how dire the pain of consequences have been. We can start now. We can do it. There is a home, a way to turn and return, YHVH is there for us. So keep walking. Shift your focus, but keep going -- it's there for us all -- right here, and here, and there. Do-able. Keep walking.
Your heart and soul can heal.
That Guy
Deut 17: 14 - 20
Shoftim
Leaders and Judges
Sometimes, I think, secretly, part of us all wants to be that guy. Chosen by God to lead our compatriots, our kinsmen, our fellow travelers.
We would embody justice, humility, fairness and truth. We would feel sacred and blessed to be in this position. We wouldn't abuse our power, turn to greed, treat some with favor, others with scorn. We would be holy. Not perfect, not without erring or falling, but always learning in our drive to honor and represent this chosenness. To honor the trust and faith others place in us and let all our words, all our works, and all our joys be for peace and goodness in the service of the true king.
But can we see it? Do others? What do we allow ourselves to see, even when it's not what we want? Secretly, whether we know it or not, we are all that capable of seeing.
That guy, that woman, that chosen one. But we must trust. Wholeheartedly, whole soul-edly. And we must hold that sacred truth humbly in our hearts, and as we see Yud Hey Vav Hey unfolding our origami paths, then we must go out there and work. Make our words messages of peace. Make our actions messages of wisdom, our thoughts prayers of gratitude.
We are all that chosen, moving and being and doing in the world. May we all be blessed in our doing and being, choosing our words and our leaders carefully on our paths to justice, humility, and peace.
Shoftim
Leaders and Judges
Sometimes, I think, secretly, part of us all wants to be that guy. Chosen by God to lead our compatriots, our kinsmen, our fellow travelers.
We would embody justice, humility, fairness and truth. We would feel sacred and blessed to be in this position. We wouldn't abuse our power, turn to greed, treat some with favor, others with scorn. We would be holy. Not perfect, not without erring or falling, but always learning in our drive to honor and represent this chosenness. To honor the trust and faith others place in us and let all our words, all our works, and all our joys be for peace and goodness in the service of the true king.
But can we see it? Do others? What do we allow ourselves to see, even when it's not what we want? Secretly, whether we know it or not, we are all that capable of seeing.
That guy, that woman, that chosen one. But we must trust. Wholeheartedly, whole soul-edly. And we must hold that sacred truth humbly in our hearts, and as we see Yud Hey Vav Hey unfolding our origami paths, then we must go out there and work. Make our words messages of peace. Make our actions messages of wisdom, our thoughts prayers of gratitude.
We are all that chosen, moving and being and doing in the world. May we all be blessed in our doing and being, choosing our words and our leaders carefully on our paths to justice, humility, and peace.
Deut 1: 6-8 7/26/12
We Can't Go Forward In Freedom Unless We Hold Where We've Been
So, here we are. The journey that we began so long ago, really began in slavery. Look what we lost -- and look what we found. Are we better off now? We hope so. It doesn't always feel that way.
But to really know where we've been, we have to know who we are -- the parts of ourselves we mourn, the actual people we have lost, the hopes and dreams we shed along the way, the bitterness and sweetness we've encountered that has been unpredictable, not what we thought, not who we were, but who and what we are.
Really? Are we too old for our youthful dreams? Too young to know our wise truth?
No.
But it's all different than we thought it would be.
God doesn't give us a Disney fairytale. There isn't a happily-ever-after, neat-and-tidy ending, roll credits... WE AREN'T DONE!
So look around, look within... Who are you now? Who are the people around us? What is the story now? Not the one from ten years ago, not the one from fourteen months ago, but NOW.
Can we open ourselves to the story unfolding with us, all around us, and within us? We have to ask and listen, ask and listen, in order to enter the truth, the hope and spirit of the promised land. Examine our previous and current fears, and look at the way we are making ourselves ready to go where no one has gone before.
We all have the capacity to hear, the capacity to learn, and the capacity to support every voice in freedom and hope, with love and gratitude.
So, here we are. The journey that we began so long ago, really began in slavery. Look what we lost -- and look what we found. Are we better off now? We hope so. It doesn't always feel that way.
But to really know where we've been, we have to know who we are -- the parts of ourselves we mourn, the actual people we have lost, the hopes and dreams we shed along the way, the bitterness and sweetness we've encountered that has been unpredictable, not what we thought, not who we were, but who and what we are.
Really? Are we too old for our youthful dreams? Too young to know our wise truth?
No.
But it's all different than we thought it would be.
God doesn't give us a Disney fairytale. There isn't a happily-ever-after, neat-and-tidy ending, roll credits... WE AREN'T DONE!
So look around, look within... Who are you now? Who are the people around us? What is the story now? Not the one from ten years ago, not the one from fourteen months ago, but NOW.
Can we open ourselves to the story unfolding with us, all around us, and within us? We have to ask and listen, ask and listen, in order to enter the truth, the hope and spirit of the promised land. Examine our previous and current fears, and look at the way we are making ourselves ready to go where no one has gone before.
We all have the capacity to hear, the capacity to learn, and the capacity to support every voice in freedom and hope, with love and gratitude.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
The Path Back
Balaam/Balak
Numbers 22: 21-35
July 7, 2012
I missed it. Again. I saw, then I became blind. I hate that! It's so embarrassing to look back and see what I've done, knowing I wasn't paying attention, I wasn't awake, I wasn't doing what I knew I should do or even thought what I did was right, but I was wrong.
There were some indications, but made that other temptation into what I wanted. I saw what I wanted to see, put blinders on what I didn't want to see -- and now it's a big huge mess and I have to fix it.
I have to humble myself. Recognize that my hunger led me astray, led me to where I thought I could have it all but now I have this. Ugh. I hate having to be the fool again, back down the totem pole -- and I really didn't like the bottom of the totem pole.
My teacher, Natalie Goldberg, talks about "beginner's mind" -- the energy of letting go of the trappings of our egos, our position, our status, and entering into the now, the this-ness of now, without fear.
And it might mean taking a hit, and I personally hate it when I take a hit! But it shows us who we are, mistakes and all, when we course correct. When we move ourselves back into alignment with the flow of all that is, was, and will be, unfolding around us.
Then we, as a people, are blessed.
Numbers 22: 21-35
July 7, 2012
I missed it. Again. I saw, then I became blind. I hate that! It's so embarrassing to look back and see what I've done, knowing I wasn't paying attention, I wasn't awake, I wasn't doing what I knew I should do or even thought what I did was right, but I was wrong.
There were some indications, but made that other temptation into what I wanted. I saw what I wanted to see, put blinders on what I didn't want to see -- and now it's a big huge mess and I have to fix it.
I have to humble myself. Recognize that my hunger led me astray, led me to where I thought I could have it all but now I have this. Ugh. I hate having to be the fool again, back down the totem pole -- and I really didn't like the bottom of the totem pole.
My teacher, Natalie Goldberg, talks about "beginner's mind" -- the energy of letting go of the trappings of our egos, our position, our status, and entering into the now, the this-ness of now, without fear.
And it might mean taking a hit, and I personally hate it when I take a hit! But it shows us who we are, mistakes and all, when we course correct. When we move ourselves back into alignment with the flow of all that is, was, and will be, unfolding around us.
Then we, as a people, are blessed.
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