Hi Everyone! It has been an incredibly busy semester for me -- I taught three new writing classes and had an amazing time. But I am behind on the Poet Rabbi updates. Bear with me, I am posting my poems from the last two services. Then I will go back and fill in the gaps.
Your patience is genuinely appreciated.
Sam
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Breaking Open
Gen 42:16-21
We are swimming with the snakes, at the bottom of the well. So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell. But we are not snakes, and what's more, we never will be. If we stay swimming here forever we will never be free... (Patty Griffin, "Forgiveness")
We all do it. Flip into that hurt, small self that says, "You did this me. I'm going to get you back!" And then we know, that growth requires suspending, noticing, naming, allowing that smaller minded self into the spectrum of who we are called by God to become, and we try -- sometimes more successfully than others -- to integrate, to let that self be present but not run the show. To say inside, I hear you, I love you, and yet there is more... so stand with me as we try something different.
In that stance, in the space between who we have been and who we are becoming, we open into the now moment of forgiveness, the beginning of healing... of ourselves, of others, of everything. We don't abandon that smaller-minded self -- we can't, we are all so human, sometimes it hurts -- but we can add to our wholeness, expand our spectrum, step into the window of light that opens to allow us to see more than what has come before, and in that expansion we become part of the eternal bridge between past, present and future, and we welcome healing, we welcome moving more freely into the fullness of ourselves, our gifts, our divine connection.
And we give thanks. Not for doing it perfectly every time, not for freeing ourselves from our past wounds (are they EVER fully gone?) but for noticing and choosing to move and grow. To hold love closer than pain, to hold wisdom closer than fear, and to see more clearly that in each moment, we have a choice to be closer to the divine.
"It's hard to give, it's hard to get, but everybody needs a little forgiveness."
(Patty Griffin)
We are swimming with the snakes, at the bottom of the well. So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell. But we are not snakes, and what's more, we never will be. If we stay swimming here forever we will never be free... (Patty Griffin, "Forgiveness")
We all do it. Flip into that hurt, small self that says, "You did this me. I'm going to get you back!" And then we know, that growth requires suspending, noticing, naming, allowing that smaller minded self into the spectrum of who we are called by God to become, and we try -- sometimes more successfully than others -- to integrate, to let that self be present but not run the show. To say inside, I hear you, I love you, and yet there is more... so stand with me as we try something different.
In that stance, in the space between who we have been and who we are becoming, we open into the now moment of forgiveness, the beginning of healing... of ourselves, of others, of everything. We don't abandon that smaller-minded self -- we can't, we are all so human, sometimes it hurts -- but we can add to our wholeness, expand our spectrum, step into the window of light that opens to allow us to see more than what has come before, and in that expansion we become part of the eternal bridge between past, present and future, and we welcome healing, we welcome moving more freely into the fullness of ourselves, our gifts, our divine connection.
And we give thanks. Not for doing it perfectly every time, not for freeing ourselves from our past wounds (are they EVER fully gone?) but for noticing and choosing to move and grow. To hold love closer than pain, to hold wisdom closer than fear, and to see more clearly that in each moment, we have a choice to be closer to the divine.
"It's hard to give, it's hard to get, but everybody needs a little forgiveness."
(Patty Griffin)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Jacob/Israel
We Struggle... and are Forever Changed
We bear the scars, internal and external, of our transformation. For to go unchanged, unmarked, is not the vision that God has for us, is not the sacred task that we have been given. We are Israel... and Ya'akov -- in our moments of doubt, our moments of unseeing, our moments of forgetting our highers selves, our transformed souls, our given names -- the one that changes us forever -- and even so, today, we still flip back and forth with our whole selves -- sometimes Israel, sometimes Ya'akov, and it changes us.
We notice the spaces between, we notice the fullness of the love within the spaces, and we struggle... struggle and go on, marked and changed, moving differently through the world, even as we struggle, even as we notice the luminous and the dark, the right now and the someday, the becoming, becoming, becoming whole that we all struggle with, searching to find our truest face turned toward God. And the times when we find ourselves turned around, to face once again who we have been, even as we wrestle to move ourselves back or forward into the way we are called to become.
And here we are: we are Israel, a people who wrestle with ourselves, with others, and with God, and we are able. Always remember: we are able. So we turn, marked in our way, toward wholeness.
We bear the scars, internal and external, of our transformation. For to go unchanged, unmarked, is not the vision that God has for us, is not the sacred task that we have been given. We are Israel... and Ya'akov -- in our moments of doubt, our moments of unseeing, our moments of forgetting our highers selves, our transformed souls, our given names -- the one that changes us forever -- and even so, today, we still flip back and forth with our whole selves -- sometimes Israel, sometimes Ya'akov, and it changes us.
We notice the spaces between, we notice the fullness of the love within the spaces, and we struggle... struggle and go on, marked and changed, moving differently through the world, even as we struggle, even as we notice the luminous and the dark, the right now and the someday, the becoming, becoming, becoming whole that we all struggle with, searching to find our truest face turned toward God. And the times when we find ourselves turned around, to face once again who we have been, even as we wrestle to move ourselves back or forward into the way we are called to become.
And here we are: we are Israel, a people who wrestle with ourselves, with others, and with God, and we are able. Always remember: we are able. So we turn, marked in our way, toward wholeness.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Time After Time: Leich L'cha
Exodus 12:1-9: Go forth...
"Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper
Sung by Eva Cassidy
So, here we are again, called forth by love to move beyond where we are stuck.
It's motion that frees us, motion that connects us back to ourselves, back to love, back to God, back to the eternal.
Motion is so easy, but sometimes it seems so hard. We take everything we are with us as we go forward, and inevitably, we find our suitcase full of rocks.
But we can lighten the load. There's no secret.
Or, here's the secret: love the rocks.
When we're in the dry, parched Negev, love the sand, the heat, the steps that brought us here. And remember: no matter how stuck we are, no matter how heavy the load, light always follows dark.
But... Here's the real secret. As Avram had to learn, as we all have to learn -- do not deny the truth of who you are.
We can't if we are to move through, love at our back, at our heels, our hearts calling us forward.
We must be in motion as we are; as who we are.
"That woman, Sarai, she is my wife."
The truth moves us forward with loving kindness, time after time.
I woke this morning with the truth: I'm six months shy of forty, I'm not "young" anymore, not like I used to be. I remembered gifts I was given, the ones who said, "You are beautiful, you are loved..." and I knew they spoke the truth. I believe them.
So when we forget, when the desert storms swirl with sand, listen for the voice of truth and move yourself into the awareness of love.
Lighten your load. Take who you are, the whole truth of who you are, undeniable and shining with the hot sun, even in the darkness, the light of loving kindness, of chesed, is all around. When dawn arrives, walk yourself with awareness into love.
Keep going. We are loved and eternal and moving. Keep moving. We are all here with you, time after time.
"If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me, time after time. If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting, time after time. Time after time..."
"Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper
Sung by Eva Cassidy
So, here we are again, called forth by love to move beyond where we are stuck.
It's motion that frees us, motion that connects us back to ourselves, back to love, back to God, back to the eternal.
Motion is so easy, but sometimes it seems so hard. We take everything we are with us as we go forward, and inevitably, we find our suitcase full of rocks.
But we can lighten the load. There's no secret.
Or, here's the secret: love the rocks.
When we're in the dry, parched Negev, love the sand, the heat, the steps that brought us here. And remember: no matter how stuck we are, no matter how heavy the load, light always follows dark.
But... Here's the real secret. As Avram had to learn, as we all have to learn -- do not deny the truth of who you are.
We can't if we are to move through, love at our back, at our heels, our hearts calling us forward.
We must be in motion as we are; as who we are.
"That woman, Sarai, she is my wife."
The truth moves us forward with loving kindness, time after time.
I woke this morning with the truth: I'm six months shy of forty, I'm not "young" anymore, not like I used to be. I remembered gifts I was given, the ones who said, "You are beautiful, you are loved..." and I knew they spoke the truth. I believe them.
So when we forget, when the desert storms swirl with sand, listen for the voice of truth and move yourself into the awareness of love.
Lighten your load. Take who you are, the whole truth of who you are, undeniable and shining with the hot sun, even in the darkness, the light of loving kindness, of chesed, is all around. When dawn arrives, walk yourself with awareness into love.
Keep going. We are loved and eternal and moving. Keep moving. We are all here with you, time after time.
"If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me, time after time. If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting, time after time. Time after time..."
Thursday, September 30, 2010
A Fall Day of Contemplation and Renewal
This Sunday, October 3 from 11 to 3:30* (please note, this is a time change)
Please join Samantha Libby as she leads us in a retreat day of contemplation and renewal.
"As Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot wind down, we have been through a process of taking stock, paring down, releasing what is no longer needed, and harvesting what is most precious within us and within community.
On Sunday, we will gather as a group to engage in and continue the practice of opening our hearts to the new season, our present moment, and to what is, was and will be.
We will use prayer and movement, discussion and silence, writing and sharing as the tools in this moment to continue to expand our souls and our sacred community."
Wear comfortable clothing, bring a notebook and a pen, and please bring some food or drink item to share with approximately six to eight people. People outside of Daniel's service circle are MORE than welcome to attend.
For more information, and to RSVP, please contact Sam at samalama@usa.net ***
Can't wait!!
-P.R.
***Please DO RSVP! If you can't make the whole thing, come as you can!
Please join Samantha Libby as she leads us in a retreat day of contemplation and renewal.
"As Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot wind down, we have been through a process of taking stock, paring down, releasing what is no longer needed, and harvesting what is most precious within us and within community.
On Sunday, we will gather as a group to engage in and continue the practice of opening our hearts to the new season, our present moment, and to what is, was and will be.
We will use prayer and movement, discussion and silence, writing and sharing as the tools in this moment to continue to expand our souls and our sacred community."
Wear comfortable clothing, bring a notebook and a pen, and please bring some food or drink item to share with approximately six to eight people. People outside of Daniel's service circle are MORE than welcome to attend.
For more information, and to RSVP, please contact Sam at samalama@usa.net ***
Can't wait!!
-P.R.
***Please DO RSVP! If you can't make the whole thing, come as you can!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Rosh Hashanah 5771: Exodus 22:1-19
The Binding of Isaac
There is no way to reconcile this conflict – we do and we don’t for good reason, we’re humans with lives and fears and baggage, wounds, pain, suffering, flaws, rage, desires, and egos.
Big egos.
Even those of us with small egos, forget how big they are sometimes.
9/10/10
The willingness to answer the call that we cannot understand (and would not choose).
Today, we start again.
Let me rephrase that.
Today, we ask ourselves, how willing are we to open? To open to the inside, to the soul, to the community and to god.
Part of us has always known that this is hard. Harder than anything else we might do. We suspect it may have its rewards, its sweetness, its own joy, we see it in the eyes of others who have found it, but we wonder…
...maybe they are just different; maybe it is that way for them and not for me.
...maybe they are just different; maybe it is that way for them and not for me.
We spend a lot of our energy -- our soul -- procrastinating, avoiding, deciding that so many other things are more important right now. And yet, inside, we know.
We know that we all have hard things to do that we don’t want to do, but our soul… it speaks to us. God speaks to us.
We know that we all have hard things to do that we don’t want to do, but our soul… it speaks to us. God speaks to us.
Inevitably, when we hear it, we are both overjoyed and terrified, because whatever it is that we must do, that we know in our souls we must do, we don’t want to do it.
We don’t.
We don’t.
And we do.
There is no way to reconcile this conflict – we do and we don’t for good reason, we’re humans with lives and fears and baggage, wounds, pain, suffering, flaws, rage, desires, and egos.
Big egos.
Even those of us with small egos, forget how big they are sometimes.
But we know we will do this, even though we don’t want to. Because our soul knows it will.
There is no other way to explain it. Our soul will do this. We don’t have to like it -- in fact most of the time, all of the time, every step of the way, we won’t like it. But we will do it anyway.
There is no other way to explain it. Our soul will do this. We don’t have to like it -- in fact most of the time, all of the time, every step of the way, we won’t like it. But we will do it anyway.
This isn’t “just” a choice. There is no “just” in this choice. There is no choice in this choice. The soul is called to go, and we go.
Imagine… it’s not an either/or choice. Its not like we just won a trip to Hawaii or Cabo and we "just" get to pick which one.
It’s not like god/the universe/your inner speaking soul hands us a stack of cards with different missions printed on the back and we can flip through them saying, "No – not that one. Nah, too hard. Well, ok, maybe that one...but let’s see what this one says."
It’s not like god/the universe/your inner speaking soul hands us a stack of cards with different missions printed on the back and we can flip through them saying, "No – not that one. Nah, too hard. Well, ok, maybe that one...but let’s see what this one says."
For Abraham, every card says kill your son.
For us, when we listen, we know what it says.
We keep flipping, hoping for a different card, a different picture -- nothing. They all say the same thing: Do that which we cannot do. Something that will change us, our life, our relationships and the course of history forever…
And we didn’t get to choose it.
Not how we got here, not how this moment arrived, how all the people we know and have known have influenced our lives, our egos, our souls, and now… choiceless.
All we get to do is say "Yes."
For us, when we listen, we know what it says.
We keep flipping, hoping for a different card, a different picture -- nothing. They all say the same thing: Do that which we cannot do. Something that will change us, our life, our relationships and the course of history forever…
And we didn’t get to choose it.
Not how we got here, not how this moment arrived, how all the people we know and have known have influenced our lives, our egos, our souls, and now… choiceless.
All we get to do is say "Yes."
We wonder, where is the easier choice that leads to joy? The safer one that doesn’t have to wait for the hand to be stayed?
We want the one that makes sense. And yet, we’re talking outside the box of “sense” -- or actually deep in the box of “sense” if you follow me.
Our souls speak. God calls. We are afraid. We go anyway. Fearless? Foolish? Doesn’t even matter.
We want the one that makes sense. And yet, we’re talking outside the box of “sense” -- or actually deep in the box of “sense” if you follow me.
Our souls speak. God calls. We are afraid. We go anyway. Fearless? Foolish? Doesn’t even matter.
We try to go macro – look to the bigger picture. We might hang on to some belief that beyond this little box of "me" standing before you, is a structure I cannot see.
We might not -- we question.
Ok. I can live with that. But how does this little box of "me" tumble or erect the larger structure?
We might not -- we question.
Ok. I can live with that. But how does this little box of "me" tumble or erect the larger structure?
We cannot know.
We’re talking thousands of years in which we are a box, a brick, a grain of sand. And still… our soul calls us, the choice is only this:
Live fearlessly with great hope.
Live from that sensing place and trust.
Live and live and live, knowing we will be part of the sands of time, knowing we are only human, there are things we cannot know, and still, we are alive.
We are so alive!
Look what we can do, look who we can be – look around you. Look at the hearts and souls and love in this room, in this world in this life.
We’re talking thousands of years in which we are a box, a brick, a grain of sand. And still… our soul calls us, the choice is only this:
Live fearlessly with great hope.
Live from that sensing place and trust.
Live and live and live, knowing we will be part of the sands of time, knowing we are only human, there are things we cannot know, and still, we are alive.
We are so alive!
Look what we can do, look who we can be – look around you. Look at the hearts and souls and love in this room, in this world in this life.
We cannot know.
The limit of humanity.
And still, we are so blessed. We are so beautiful.
When we walk into the unknown, terrified and unafraid at the same time, we become mountains, we become the ocean, we become the very fabric of the universe that holds us.
It is so hard… and yet, it is so clearly simple.
We will go. And go. We will hold each other when we cry. We are so unbearably, heartbreakingly, soul-openingly human.
And we are so loved.
The limit of humanity.
And still, we are so blessed. We are so beautiful.
When we walk into the unknown, terrified and unafraid at the same time, we become mountains, we become the ocean, we become the very fabric of the universe that holds us.
It is so hard… and yet, it is so clearly simple.
We will go. And go. We will hold each other when we cry. We are so unbearably, heartbreakingly, soul-openingly human.
And we are so loved.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Deuteronomy 15:7-11; God Is Honey
A Guided Meditation/Poem in Three Parts
August 7, 2010
1. "I"
Imagine that no one is any less broken than you are. Reach down into those places within that are not yet healed. Don’t fear – we all have them. Now the trick is to breathe them together.
Close your eyes. Imagine that your breath can reach those places, can be the honey, the viscous substance that begins to bind the fractured pieces together. Loosely. We don’t want everything in there immobile. But we want to remember that the pieces of ourselves that we have tucked away, buried under layers of shame or fear, hidden beneath the bedrock of the other places in our selves, our lives, our relationships, can be healed.
Meaning, we are all mosaics. We can all be joined and smoothed in ways that make us beautiful.
2. "You"
I need three volunteers for this part. Everyone out here, I want you to close your eyes and imagine your breath flowing through you like honey. Slightly sticky, and heavy, unbelievably sweet. Take in as much honey as you can manage – it’s delicious, it’s good for you and if it’s local it’ll help with your allergies.
Volunteers, please close your eyes and slowly, begin to move, as if through honey. When I say so, everyone open your eyes, but volunteers, keep moving. Okay. Breathing in the honey, letting it coat the insides, the broken places, the jagged edges. Where you are stuck, imagine yourself lubricated. Lodged places are becoming more free. Anything that doesn’t need to be there will make its way to the surface. Let it move, let it out.
Ok. Open your eyes.
Volunteers, move through this honey we have all breathed into being. Move your bodies, look at each other, find your flow through time and space, like honey, like breath, like clouds and rain, like dancing, like crying, like thunderstorms and flowers.
This is how we meet our neighbors – with the honey in mind, the sweetness of not knowing the other.
And the stranger in our midst?
If the community can surround the stranger (within, without) and breathe the stuck places free, then what do we have to fear? Within ourselves, within our hearts, our relationships, the other is another piece of ourselves that hasn’t been coated with that honey love, hasn’t been encouraged to breathe free or move itself out, or stick to the other fragmented parts right alongside it. We can do this. God is in us, god is in you and me and them. Other is part of it. We can be the honey and the healing. We can see the flow of this all around us. You don’t have to call it god – though I will, I like the redefinition of god as honey! But if it’s more comfortable for you, call it love, call it goodness, call it peace, call it breath, call it silence in the spaces within and without. Micro and macro.
3. "Us"
All of us, stand up.
Begin to move.
Imagine you, too, are moving through honey.
Imagine every motion gilded with sticky sweetness. If you touch your neighbor, it is sweet. If they touch you, take a taste. We are all delicious! Now, as we all move about the room in this heavy sticky sweet way, imagine that we are God’s mosaic, micro within, macro all around, external, flowing, moving through space and time both internally and externally, forward and back. Taste joy. Taste the love that flows between us, beyond us, through us. Taste the love of God. We are in it, bound together in sweetness, an ever-changing kaleidoscope mosaic of goodness, sweetness and love.
Now stop.
It is Shabbat – stop.
Taste the bounty that is within and surrounding.
Bring this with you as you flow back into your life, your struggles, your community, your family.
Let the honey of God ease your way.
Let yourself heal.
August 7, 2010
1. "I"
Imagine that no one is any less broken than you are. Reach down into those places within that are not yet healed. Don’t fear – we all have them. Now the trick is to breathe them together.
Close your eyes. Imagine that your breath can reach those places, can be the honey, the viscous substance that begins to bind the fractured pieces together. Loosely. We don’t want everything in there immobile. But we want to remember that the pieces of ourselves that we have tucked away, buried under layers of shame or fear, hidden beneath the bedrock of the other places in our selves, our lives, our relationships, can be healed.
Meaning, we are all mosaics. We can all be joined and smoothed in ways that make us beautiful.
2. "You"
I need three volunteers for this part. Everyone out here, I want you to close your eyes and imagine your breath flowing through you like honey. Slightly sticky, and heavy, unbelievably sweet. Take in as much honey as you can manage – it’s delicious, it’s good for you and if it’s local it’ll help with your allergies.
Volunteers, please close your eyes and slowly, begin to move, as if through honey. When I say so, everyone open your eyes, but volunteers, keep moving. Okay. Breathing in the honey, letting it coat the insides, the broken places, the jagged edges. Where you are stuck, imagine yourself lubricated. Lodged places are becoming more free. Anything that doesn’t need to be there will make its way to the surface. Let it move, let it out.
Ok. Open your eyes.
Volunteers, move through this honey we have all breathed into being. Move your bodies, look at each other, find your flow through time and space, like honey, like breath, like clouds and rain, like dancing, like crying, like thunderstorms and flowers.
This is how we meet our neighbors – with the honey in mind, the sweetness of not knowing the other.
And the stranger in our midst?
If the community can surround the stranger (within, without) and breathe the stuck places free, then what do we have to fear? Within ourselves, within our hearts, our relationships, the other is another piece of ourselves that hasn’t been coated with that honey love, hasn’t been encouraged to breathe free or move itself out, or stick to the other fragmented parts right alongside it. We can do this. God is in us, god is in you and me and them. Other is part of it. We can be the honey and the healing. We can see the flow of this all around us. You don’t have to call it god – though I will, I like the redefinition of god as honey! But if it’s more comfortable for you, call it love, call it goodness, call it peace, call it breath, call it silence in the spaces within and without. Micro and macro.
3. "Us"
All of us, stand up.
Begin to move.
Imagine you, too, are moving through honey.
Imagine every motion gilded with sticky sweetness. If you touch your neighbor, it is sweet. If they touch you, take a taste. We are all delicious! Now, as we all move about the room in this heavy sticky sweet way, imagine that we are God’s mosaic, micro within, macro all around, external, flowing, moving through space and time both internally and externally, forward and back. Taste joy. Taste the love that flows between us, beyond us, through us. Taste the love of God. We are in it, bound together in sweetness, an ever-changing kaleidoscope mosaic of goodness, sweetness and love.
Now stop.
It is Shabbat – stop.
Taste the bounty that is within and surrounding.
Bring this with you as you flow back into your life, your struggles, your community, your family.
Let the honey of God ease your way.
Let yourself heal.
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