Character

I dreamed of Alan and Bonnie last night. Bonnie was explaining to me how Alan cares the way he does. Many times, I've wished I could apprentice with Alan, learning his skill and compassion in comforting mourners and respecting the departed. However, I've always know that these abilities come from within him and cannot be taught. It's a matter of character and perhaps also of upbringing. Bonnie's heart and brain work together, too. I know no one else like them and I wish I could be like them.

Handmaiden of a Northern Goddess

Loom and Thread by Carl Larsson

How do I reconcile worshiping only HaShem and his Shekhinah with my awareness that other gods are real? I don't. Not "all the gods are one god" and the gods of other tribes are worth talking to.

I've been working with just one exercise in a book by Raven Kaldera and Galina Krasskova. Raven maintains an online shrine dedicated to the gods of his Northern Tradition.

An aspiration this morning took me to Raven's shrine to light a candle to a goddess. Who are Frigg's handmaids, I wondered. The word "permission" drew me and I learned the story of the goddess Lofn. Her story was lost to people until Linda Demissy asked the Handmaidens to share it with her.

It's a good story, not just for star crossed lovers, but for anyone seeking "right love." You should read it here.

This is a prayer Linda wrote for those who seek Lofn's counsel.

I am the child in chains, chafing to be free.

I am the woman wounded, by the wrath of my chosen.

I am the kid expecting a beating, cannot run or fight.

I am the boy of bravery, become a bully to feel strong.

I am the wife beaten to death, wondering why as I die.

I am the heart humiliated, who has no hope of help.

I am the one repeatedly raped, what did I do wrong?

I am the son hiding his bruises, so shame will stay secret.

I am the victim of violence, violated in my trust,

Swollen red, silently screaming “walk away!”

Walk away from anger, walk away from hurt.

Walk away when I would shame my ancestors.

I will not lash out, at my love or myself.

I will cry for my hurt, hug my own scars.

Ghosts of my bullies, to your graves be bound,

I release you now, sink to rise nevermore.

By Hela’s grace, may I be reborn.

By Lofn’s cleansing, I reclaim my heart. 

The forbidden love is love of self. Seeking "right love" means recognizing abusers and not confusing them with friends. At the risk of a cliché, you can't love and care for others unless you first love and care for yourself. 

Before I lit a real candle and the virtual candle at Lofn's shrine, I wrote these words:  

Lofn, permit me and aid me.

Spin the yarn. Dress the loom and place my hands upon it. Teach me to reweave my life with strong threads. Warp and weft. Confidence and competence. Shuttle and shot. Friendship and community. Cross and draft. Priestesshood and service.

Help me discard a veil of shame and silence. Guide me to weave a garment for dancing in vineyards. May it be the colors of gratitude, playfulness, and laughter. May its fringes remind me of my path.

I will offer comfort to the hurt and encourage speech in those who have been silenced. I will name the bullies and sing the praises of those who defeat them.

I will remember you, Lofn, and I will bless the divine presence.

A New Beginning

The stress of the last few months took its toll; shortly after I moved into my (very nice) apartment in Tucson, I had to go to an urgent care clinic. The antibiotics have helped quite a bit, but I'm very worn out and not accomplishing much.

Yesterday, I attended a really good Torah study at one of the Conserative shuls. One of the last things we discussed was Joseph's wife, Asnat, and why the rabbis decided she must have been Dinah's daughter. All of Israel's children needed to be in Egypt for redemption, so the two "half-tribes" of Ephraim and Menashe "must" be the grandsons of Dinah as well as the sons of Joseph. 

(I'd never noticed that the word Yisrael includes the first letter of each matriarch's and partriarch's name.) 

In the afternoon, I ran some important errands and unpacked the fleishig dishes. It could have been a productive evening... instead, after setting up my wifi, I surfed for many unproductive hours. Slept late this morning and somehow accomplished nothing today except the purchase of a table to use as a desk. Just that little bit has worn me out so I will wait until next Tuesday to see what the Talmud study group is like.

There are three more Torah study groups and I plan to attend. They meet on Wednesday and Shabbat.

The rabbi at one other shul invited me to join them for services this erev Shabbat. Yesterday, someone warned me they are "very" Reform and continued on to one of those superiority rants, so I plan to like that community very much.

And this coming Shabbat morning, another Reform shul is having services and a hike in Sabino Canyon.

Haven't seen much of Tucson yet, but I already know I'll like it a lot! People are friendly.

Chanukah has been a self-dedication for me.

I've decided to spend this year pursuing things that may seem impractical: studying Hebrew, learning Torah, community service, writing, hiking, and Kohenet training.  

November 27

Last Friday, preparing for Shabbat, I put my pre- and post-Deuteronomist Judaisms side by side. I wonder how my altar will change over the coming year.

December 13

It is very near you

Reworking of 03/09/14 post.

Too many times over the last twelve years, I have failed to heed my intuition. Each time, I followed the path of “good” sense to a bad end.

The Torah reminds us to pay attention to what our souls tell us and to value our own experiences of life and of divine guidance. Often we are afraid to do so.

And Moses called unto all Israel, and said unto them… The LORD our God made a covenant with us in Horeb. The LORD made not this covenant with our fathers, but with us, even us, who are all of us here alive this day. The LORD spoke with you face to face in the mount out of the midst of the fire… And it came to pass, when ye heard the voice out of the midst of the darkness, while the mountain did burn with fire, that ye came near unto me, even all the heads of your tribes, and your elders; and ye said: 'Behold, the LORD our God hath shown us His glory and His greatness, and we have heard His voice out of the midst of the fire; we have seen this day that God doth speak with man, and he liveth. Now therefore why should we die? for this great fire will consume us; if we hear the voice of the LORD our God any more, then we shall die. For who is there of all flesh, that hath heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? Go thou near, and hear all that the LORD our God may say; and thou shalt speak unto us all that the LORD our God may speak unto thee; and we will hear it and do it.' (Devarim 5:1-23)

Tradition teaches that each of us, even those who were not yet born and those who would convert millennia later, experienced theophany at Sinai. We heard god’s voice and we lived. Yet we begged not to hear god’s voice again! We asked Moses to be our intermediary. We relinquished our relationship with the divine and our own power.

We should not rely on someone else’s interpretation of his or her experience of life or of the divine. We should embrace our own experience, our own intuition.

Eve relied on Adam’s interpretation of god’s instructions. What if she had sought to hear god’s voice? What if she had listened to her own intuition? How different would her response to the serpent have been?

Adam also drew back from god. By failing to tell god honestly what he had done, he failed to embrace his relationship with god.

We’re not going to get it right when we listen to someone else as Eve did, or when we fail to treat our god as real, as a partner who is in relationship with us, as Adam did. We must not flee; we must embrace our experience of the divine.

Torah shows us that each of us should listen to god’s words, to our soul's speech. Moses wasn’t always a reliable intermediary. When god instructed Moses to talk to the people, he ran down the mountain and spoke to only the men, so an essential part of god’s instruction was lost in “translation.”

And the LORD said unto Moses: 'Go unto the people, and sanctify them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments, and be ready against the third day; for the third day the LORD will come down in the sight of all the people upon mount Sinai… And Moses said: 'Be ready against the third day; come not near a woman.' (Sh’mot 19:10-15) 


God wanted all of us to purify ourselves. Moses heard instructions directed at the males. (If god had been speaking of cooties, it was the women who should have been addressed since, according to the ritual purity laws, men were a source of ritual impurity far more often than women.) Someone else’s interpretation can be wrong. We must try to listen for ourselves. We may misunderstand (as Moses did), but we may get it right. If we do misunderstand it may, at least, be in a way that helps us gain understanding in the long run.

The god of Torah does not expect us to believe without evidence; we are expected to believe only what we have experienced. (Yirimyahu 7:9, Dvarim 11:28) And we should respond by inviting and embracing the experience—even if it means changing our minds, throwing out the rules of conventional reality, or modifying our understanding of a promise we have made. If the promise was to god… god will already understand.

Pay attention, because your intuition can guide you to do what is correct for you at this particular moment. Rational thought is a poor guide and so are rules. You must “act for the soul regardless of what this world demands.” (Mallika Sarabhai)

*   *   *   *

It is not in heaven, that thou shouldest say: 'Who shall go up for us to heaven, and bring it unto us, and make us to hear it, that we may do it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that thou shouldest say: 'Who shall go over the sea for us, and bring it unto us, and make us to hear it, that we may do it?' It is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it. Dvarim 30:14

עולה חדשה

Eliana Rudee is blogging about being a new immigrant to Israel! 

In Israel, more than anywhere else in the world, I am filled with a sense of wonder, community, and purpose. That pure bliss you feel when you learn something amazing, fall in love, or accomplish something of significance is how I often feel in Israel. It’s a natural high, and it feels right. Perhaps everyone has a place like that, and I know that for many Jews like myself, that place is Israel.

Click here to read her post.

Prayer, Ritual, and Water for the Birds

Years ago, I interviewed a number of women and asked them about their prayer lives. Each one told me her life's story. 

I wondered why they didn't address my question. Were their prayers too personal to share? Were their experiences indescribable? 

I considered the project a failure, but recently I realized that I'd been presuming to know what prayer is.

Maybe by telling me about their lives, they were telling me about their prayers. Maybe prayer isn't something you do while holding a siddur or while pressing your palms together. Perhaps prayer is more than the words you say to the unknowable. Maybe prayer is how you live and aspire and grow. 

Ritual doesn't need to fit into a mold either. My friend, Mary, and I had only a couple of minutes to plan our Equinox ritual today. There was just a little bit of form to frame our spontaneous celebration-- and our ritual was wonderful.

And also, for me, there's a daily, summer ritual. I'd forgotten about it until last week. I saw the first quail of the year, so I put tin, pie pans in depressions around my yard and filled them with water. Since the rims are at ground level, baby quail will be able to drink from them. 

As in other years, I fill them as soon as I wake up each morning. It's a simple ritual, and not "spiritual," but starting the habit again put me into a different consciousness.

Soon, the hummingbirds will return and I'll put out feeders for them, and for the bees and butterflies.

from pinterest.com

The Shaman

Susan Seddon Boulet

Shortly after I moved back to the States, I looked for a shaman to do soul retrieval for me. Linda lives just 15 miles from my house. When I scheduled an appointment, she asked for my permission to seek a vision of me before we met.

After sunset, I reached her home, which is on the side of a forested mountain. There is only moderate light pollution here, and even less high up in her neighborhood. Between a gap in the trees, the stars were numerous and devastating.

She told me what she had seen when she had sought information about me:

She saw me rise from the pool and look around for threats. I notice a standing stone in the distance and begin to swim toward it. I circle back to the starting point several times before I finally reach the edge of the water and climb to the standing stone. Not long after, I walk away from it, with a knife in my back.

The meaning of that was obvious. I was impressed because she didn’t know me, or anything about me. She had also done a “diagnostic journey” to see what I needed: soul retrieval and a power animal.

She tied a red bandana on my wrist, started a CD of drumming, and lay down next to me to travel in search of them. She had explained that she would recognize the fragment of my soul because it would also be wearing a red bandana.

Susan Seddon Boulet

She found three fragments, one was a composite of many different fragments broken off over the years and the others were a three-year-old child and a six-year-old child. They told her that they would help me figure things out, gain self-confidence, and give me bravery.

She found two power animals and told me to give them names and to talk with them even if I felt as if I were pretending. She suggested I ask them for help so that I'd recognize that they are real.

The second time I saw the shaman, she had seen me rising from the pool’s surface, trying to get rid of something. My feet were shackled together and I couldn’t make progress. I seemed afraid and isolated.

That time, Linda did some extractions before seeking a power animal. My power animals brought some of their offspring. I could feel the young ones playing and jumping all over me before she told me what she had seen. They intended to teach me about having fun.

(Afterward, I looked for a course in shamanism. One was starting that week, but I felt that I wasn’t quite ready to be the shaman instead of the patient.)

It seemed appropriate to see Linda again before I leave and return to Israel. Our appointment was last night. I arrived after sunset while the sky was still light. A sliver of the waxing moon shone brightly, but the whole moon was visible. It rose slowly as I waited outside until the time of our appointment.

She had travelled to a reflecting pool to get a vision of me. Here are her notes:

“Seen leaping out of pool then plunging back in. Repeat, each time not rising so high or plunging so deep as the time before, reaching equilibrium. Hot and cold about something? Elation tempered by caution? Is this about some life condition? Appears agitated. Unsure how to proceed? Then throws something, seems annoyed/angry. At end, turns back to me.”

It took a little effort, but I think I may understand that vision. I've been undecided about making aliyah for some time. Now I feel cautious, but I am going, which means turning my back to life here.

Susan Seddon Boulet

Linda put out a turtle shell, a rattle, and a few stones on a rabbit fur. She had me lie down on a Guatemalan rug and gave me a blanket. She started a CD of drumming and lay down on the floor next to me and repeated her diagnostic journey. She confirmed that I needed an extraction and a power animal retrieval.

She did many extractions, one, from the core of my body, was enormous. (Several times recently, I’ve gotten very cold, from my core out, shivering as if I were suffering from exposure and feeling mentally disoriented. Only immersing in a hot bath warms me back up. Perhaps she removed whatever has been causing that.)

Her journey to find my power animal took a long time. Later she explained that my power animal had run up to her immediately and told her its purpose, but she couldn’t believe this was the one. She had also expected many power animals to appear since I’m going on a journey. But there’s just this one wonderful animal who wants to teach me endurance.

The sky was black and the stars were vivid as I drove away. I pulled to the side of the rode, opened the moon roof, and turned off the engine. I gazed up at the stars for a long time and then my vision shifted and the tall pines around me became palm trees in an oasis.

Then I got lost on my way home. It seemed appropriate somehow.

If you are interested, The Foundation for Shamanic Studies keeps a list of shamans who have trained in their program as well as a schedule of classes.

Tentative reflections about the "gods"

The Torah reminds us to embrace our own experiences.

We should not rely on someone else's experience of the divine.

* * * 


I'm happy when I read one blogger's frequent, exuberant, and still-surprised exclamations that the gods are real. However I'm uncomfortable about adopting the idea myself as I feel some cynicism about religion.

My goal a year ago was to attempt to see reality as clearly as humanly possible. A human being can't help being a bundle of beliefs, but I wanted to try to remove as many of the blinders as I could.

Any belief system can blind us to what's real; religion is just the most obvious offender. Religion can be dangerous because it may lead us to ignore our own consciences as we conform to its doctrines; it may even keep us from “following our bliss.” Religious leaders (at their best) may focus on preserving religion as if the religion itself the ultimate value, or (at their worst) use religion to enhance their own authority and power.

I wanted to be rational and clear headed but found that I am inherently spiritual. (Perhaps if I had been taught biology or some other science in grade school, I would be more rational.) 


So last year, I decided that seeking an unmediated experience of the natural world was the way to remain free of religion while allowing myself to be what I am: spiritual. I joked that my practice was a cross between Richard Dawkins and Starhawk.

Of course, thinking that the natural world is the ultimate reality is a belief. 
 
Although that attempt has shown me much beauty and has been beneficial, I find it's easy to loosen my grip on that focus. So far, I haven't slipped back as far as organized religion, but I've been thinking about gods a lot lately.

When I responded to a challenge to write about a god, Hestia was the second to come to mind. (How could I possibly speak about HaShem?) As I wrote, I began to consider the possibility that she might be more than a psychological archetype.

Rhyd wrote about my post, "She states that she doesn't feel she can experience a god at the level of certain others. But she does." 

 
I considered this for a while and realized, "Yes, I have experienced Hestia. Deeply." But I'm not sure what "she" is. I don't want to think of her as a god, but have I experienced her as a god? 


I compared my attitude toward her to my attitude toward other some other… things/ideas/beings and was surprised by what I learned.

Nature 


My friend, Mary Belmore, coined the phrase “Force and Source of Life.” No name, no image, no god, and no doctrines. The ultimate. 


Nature has touched me. As a child, I loved the time from late afternoon until sunset, when the changing light of the lowering sun seemed to transform the world into another realm, a magical one. As a teenager, impressed into a month-long camping trip, I lost myself in the outdoors, completely forgetting myself as I gazed at trees, clouds, and rivers, and as I breathed the icy air. 


I want to return to those experiences of nature that I had when I was younger. I idealize them as Wordsworth did his.

Kali 


Many years ago, seeing for the first time an image of the Hindu goddess, Kali, gave me a powerful sense of love and safety. Then my conscious mind registered the image itself; it was a particularly horrific depiction of the goddess of the cremation grounds, gnawing on the entrails of the child she was standing upon. Despite that, my initial feelings of intimacy remained even after studying the image many times. 



When I described this experience to one of my pagan roommates, he warned me to stay away from dangerous gods like Kali. So I did.


Trelane?

One evening after dark, walking down a quiet street, I paused by a tree and reached out to touch it. I looked up and "saw" an enormous being open a door in the starry sky and peek down curiously to see what was below. After a brief look, he closed the door. 


Ganesh 


Ganesh reached out to me at an unexpected time. There was a large statue in a bookstore I had often visited. I had seen it a hundred times, but this time, I felt a presence and experienced something like ecstasy. It was dizzying. I resisted the feeling because I had, only days earlier, made promises that included this statement:

I choose to become a Jew of my own free will. I accept Judaism to the exclusion of all other religions, faiths, and practices and now pledge my loyalty to Judaism and the Jewish people under all circumstances.

The next two times I saw the statue I felt that ecstasy again. So I hurried away and did not return to that store for years. 


Today, when I see images of Ganesh, I take pleasure in his kind and gentle face. He is not resentful that I rejected his overtures, and sometimes I feel his benevolent presence, but he hasn't called to me again. 


HaShem / HaMakom

This is a complicated relationship and hard to describe. 


When I was studying with the rabbi who supported me in my conversion, I told him that I was deeply drawn to Judaism and to talmud Torah, and to the community, but that I was worried because I had not experienced god. (I had experienced god, but did not recognize the experience because it didn't correspond to what others said it should be.)

Torah and those who preserve it

In response, my rabbi lifted his hand slightly. I don't remember his words, but it seemed to me he was saying, "Stop. We shouldn’t talk about this." 
That puzzled me for years, but I think I understand now. A person's experience of the divine is private and no one should mediate it for her. 


He was a wonderful rabbi and one of the things I loved about him was that he never imposed himself on his congregation. He was—and I'm sure he still is—a leader who facilitated Jewish experience, not one who laid down any rules about what the experience should be. 


Years later, I felt called in a different direction, it seemed important to me to choose a path that was Jewish. A friend from that synagogue warned me, "My grandmother always said that if you're going to be religious, Reform is the only way." (I should have listened!) 



After that, texts and other people mediated my relationship with HaMakom, with HaShem. And gradually, insidiously, their beliefs about god became mine, often while my intuition was ringing warning bells. Eventually, all I'd gained because of Judaism was lost and my beloved foundation destroyed.

I once saw a documentary about gay, Jewish men. They were desperately seeking the understanding of ultra-Orthodox rabbis and they were, predictably, getting hurt. I knew they were thinking that those men were "the real rabbis," but in fact, those men were narrow-minded, stupid, ignorant, and heartless. I thought, "Find a nice Reform rabbi and get on with your lives." Why did I later fall into a similar trap?



Wanting to belong is the greatest sin. But it's also the only thing worth seeking.



I have experienced god in community and immersion in Torah study, mostly at my first shul.

Someday I will be able to recite the words, "I am the Eternal your god" and understand that HaShem transcends the small images people have. 

I know I will return and be welcomed.


I just learned that as I wrote it. (My eyes are tearing up.) 



When I am ready, god will extend god's hand and welcome me back. God will welcome me back.

Unverifiable Personal Gnosis

I should have followed the promptings of my soul. Torah reminds us to pay attention to our own experiences. 
It wasn’t only Moses who heard god’s voice. Tradition tells that even those of us who were not yet born, and those who would convert millennia later, experienced theophany at Sinai. But we drew back from this experience, asking Moses to "go near and hear."

And Moses called unto all Israel, and said unto them… The LORD made not this covenant with our fathers, but with us, even us, who are all of us here alive this day… and ye said: 'Behold, the LORD our God hath shown us His glory and His greatness, and we have heard His voice out of the midst of the fire; we have seen this day that God doth speak with man, and he liveth… if we hear the voice of the LORD our God any more, then we shall die. For who is there of all flesh, that hath heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? Go thou near, and hear all that the LORD our God may say; and thou shalt speak unto us all that the LORD our God may speak unto thee; and we will hear it and do it.' (Devarim 5:1-23)

We should not rely on someone else’s interpretation of his or her experience. We should embrace our own experience. 



Eve relied on Adam’s interpretation of god’s instructions, and Adam failed to embrace his relationship with god when he failed to be honest and tell god what he had done. We’re not going to get it right when we listen to someone else as Eve did, or when we fail to treat our god as as a real person who wants a relationship with us, as Adam did. 



We must let god speak directly to us—even if we misunderstand, we will misunderstand in our own way. When god instructed Moses to talk to the people, Moses heard something else; he ran down the mountain and spoke only to the men. Something was lost in “translation.”

And the LORD said unto Moses: 'Go unto the people, and sanctify them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments, and be ready against the third day; for the third day the LORD will come down in the sight of all the people upon mount Sinai… And Moses said unto the people: 'Be ready against the third day; come not near a woman.' (Sh’mot 19:10-15) 


(According to later, ritual purity laws, men were a source of ritual impurity far more often than women were, so if anyone needed to be cautioned, it was the women.)

We did not die when we heard god’s voice at Sinai, but despite that experience we were afraid to encounter god again. The god of Torah did not expect us to believe without evidence; we are only expected to believe what we have experienced and we should respond by inviting and embracing the experience—even if it means changing our minds or throwing out the rules of conventional reality or modifying our understanding of a promise. 


Pay attention, because your intuition can guide you to do what is correct for you at this particular moment. Rational thought is a poor guide and so are rules. 
You must “act for the soul regardless of what this world demands.” (Mallika Sarabhai on The Mahabharata) 


Conclusion 



Rhyd embraces his knowledge that "the gods are real." I am learning to embrace my experiences and not to “theologize” them. I'm grateful that Hestia has taught me that "the only way to worship is to listen to your own soul." (Question XIX) 
So it is not odd that writing about Hestia, a pagan god, would bring me back to HaShem.

When I sat down at the computer to write this post, I meant to write one thing, but I learned entirely different things as I wrote it. Apparently, I do experience gods and I do believe they are, in some way, real.

When I wrote that I didn't experience Hestia as directly as other people, Rhyd told me I did. I realized then that's how it was with HaShem. I didn't believe my own experiences were good enough, so I sought a greater sense of god and a stronger connection through prayer.

My own experiences were good enough and they were my own. I did not need to seek further.