2016 - An Invitation To Connect

Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.

That whining is the connection.        

---  Jelaluddin Rumi

Like most of you, my life is hectic.  And yet, I find myself pushing off the one thing that I know would help put it all in perspective – my spiritual practice.

For some of us, this is praying, for others it is meditation, or yoga, or running, or mindfulness or going to synagogue, or church, or mosque, or temple, regardless of what our spiritual practice is or where it takes place it is something that we do that allows us to connect.

My teacher Rev. Diane Burke often says that spiritual practice does not guarantee moments of GRACE, or moments of connection. Rather we are gifted with those and they come sporadically. The more we do our spiritual practice the more we allow these precious moments to gift us with their presence.

I know this to be true. For me stopping and connecting changes everything– whether I find grace in that moment or not. My life becomes a bit more spacious, and my mind stops racing. But much like a friend who is “looking” for a job but doesn’t send out resumes or apply for jobs yet complains that he is or she is unhappy in his or her present job – I sometimes avoid the very thing that will facilitate the results I want.

A story is told of Rabbi Zusha of Anipoli.  Every day he would sit in his study and when he was hungry he would call out, “God, Zusha is hungry.”  Then his servant would come with a tray of food and Rabbi Zusha would eat and thank God for the meal.

The servant grew tired. He asked himself, “Why does the Rabbi always say – “God, Zusha is hungry?  Doesn’t he realize that I am the person that prepares it and brings it to him?  

So Moshe took the day off. He showed up on the following morning and found the remnants of a banquet on the Rabbi’s dining room table.

He was shocked and asked around town. Who was at the Rabbi’s house? Who brought him all this food? He learned a wealthy merchant had come to town. He had been trying to get an audience with the Rabbi, but after knocking on the door numerous times, the only sound he heard was the rabbi’s chanting and studying the holy texts.

 “The Rabbi must eat sometime”, the merchant thought, and so he went out and brought all kinds of foods.  He stood outside the Rabbi’s window, and when he heard the Rabbi say, “God, Zusha is hungry.” The merchant opened the door wheeling in all the food he had bought. During the meal the merchant and the Rabbi spoke, and the merchant took this time to ask for a blessing that he and his wife be blessed with children.

After hearing this Moshe returned to the Rabbi and told him how he had left the Rabbi to fend for himself and how the merchant showed up just in time.

“Ah…” the Rabbi said. “Of course the food comes from God. It would be incredible if I just thought that I was hungry and the food would appear, but we all have to do hishtadlut (exert effort) in order to be fed, for some of us it is to go out to work, for others it is to plow the fields or to cook, for me, Zusha of Anipoli, I need to call out –"God, Zusha is hungry" and the food appears.”

So too it is with the spiritual practice that feeds my soul. I want to be like Rabbi Zusha who merely calls out and is answered by God almost immediately every time. In reality, I am more like the merchant who has to put in little effort and exercise a little patience to get the connection I want.

I invite you to join me, to connect deeper this Friday night. I invite you to unplug, to chant, to pray, to stop and do something that allows you to connect.

TEHOM el Tehom Koray (from the deep I call to you- Psalms). Let us make time to create the space for the connection that we yearn for.

This Friday - June 24, 2016

6:30pm

The Fair Lawn Jewish Center

10-10 Norma Ave

Fair Lawn, NJ 07410

2016 - When Remaining Is No Longer An Option - A Passover Reflection

It's hard to leave a community—a way of life—that is your DNA. One in which you know the rules; everyone knows your family, your parents, your past present and even future, but most importantly, they know YOU. 

Okay, so maybe they don't know you. The real you at least. The you that is questioning. The you that is gender-queer. The you that wants to be with a woman the way a husband desires his wife. The you who questions. The you who no longer fits. And honestly, may not have fit for a while.

But they do know your name. They know where you went to elementary school. They saw every event you performed in. They saw every celebration. They shared every holiday. They know your passion and your conviction.  They know the fire that burns in your soul and the devotion you feel to something greater than self. 

So why do we leave?

When I facilitate trainings I often say: “Leaving is extremely difficult.  We only desert when the pain of staying outweighs the pain of leaving. When remaining is no longer an option. When it isn't who we are anymore. When the communal ideals and values clash with our own. When we need to keep our mouths shut more often than we can voice our opinions, when the clothing we wear become too tight and the uniform no longer fits."

I spent yesterday at Baruch College at a conference titled "Dissent and Dissension: Approaching Ultra-Orthodoxy," a conference in which for the first time in a conversation about leaving the ultra-Orthodox community I didn’t present.  I was a witness. I listened. 

I have been doing that a lot lately—simply listening and holding space. Men and women with incredible strength and courage walk through the doors of my private practice and of Footsteps. Individuals trust me with their stories as they step into their truth, regardless of the price. They are striving to live authentically. They see all that is in front of them, and with quivering steps they begin a new reality. Although fearful, they audaciously go forth.

As I prepare for Passover, I think about the exodus story and I can't help but wonder, when the Rabbis say that only a fifth of the nation left Egypt do they mean that the rest stayed behind because it was easier to conform? Was it as difficult to leave then as it is now?

Did we have the courage to walk into the Sea of Reeds knowing that it would split because we had no other choice? Because the Egyptians were at our tail and the wild animals surrounded us and we saw no way out. Although we knew it meant perhaps drowning. Did we feel that it was better to drown than to go back? 

Did we understand that leaving meant wandering in the desert for 40 years? Did we comprehend that there is this in-between space we enter when we leave the familiar?  A place of no-man’s land.  A space where we redefine our beliefs. A space where we wander, trying to find a new place to call home. 

Yet, in all the searching throughout the wilderness we would never go back. The text tells us the Israelites kept asking Moses to return to Egypt. I'm sure they could have, and maybe some of them did, but ultimately they stayed. As free beings they wandered. They searched. They grappled. And, perhaps they never found the Promised Land—but their children did! They created a better tomorrow for the generation that came after them, and they journeyed into a different reality for themselves. A life that shirked off slavery. An existence that albeit difficult was of their own making. A universe in which only 20 percent had the courage to travel to. 

I am beginning to realize that it takes tremendous bravery to leave, whether it is a job, a marriage, or a community. The ambiguity of the unknown keeps many of us in places that no longer fit us.

But eventually, if the cost of staying becomes higher than the one of leaving, we do the thing that we never imagined we would do. We stride determinately into the uncertain.

So...

What in your life is really hard to leave?

What in your life has reached the boiling point where staying has become more difficult than leaving?

What in your life do you need to walk towards?

As we enter Passover, may you have the courage to step into the water as it reaches your neck, the patience to wander through the desert as you find your Promised Land, and the peace of mind in journeying in a life of your own choosing. 

Upcoming Events:

5/12/16- Building Bridges while Breaking Bread - Religion and Violence!

6:00pm Vegetarian Meal

7:00pm Panel Discussion

One Spirit Interfaith Alliance

247 West 36^th Street – Sixth Floor

New York, NY 10018

Click to Learn More or To Register

6/24/16 - Tehom: Deepening our Prayers:

A Renewal Friday night service at the Fair Lawn 6:30pm Service

Fair Lawn Jewish Center

10-10 Norma Avenue

Fair Lawn, NJ 07410

1/15/17—Coming  of Age – 

How to create rituals for Coming of Age

One Spirit Interfaith Alliance

247 West 36^th Street – Sixth Floor

New York, NY 10018

2/17/17—President’s Weekend – 

Nehirim Women’s Retreat, An LGBTQ Spiritual Shabbaton – "Forgiveness, What’s in it for me?"

Pearlstone Retreat Center: Maryland

2016 - Breathing Time: Necessity or Optional

I overdid it.
I really overdid it!!

How else do I explain my body shutting down?

I was working at a pace that just wasn’t healthy for me, and I knew it.

Over a month ago in clinical supervision I was told that if I kept this up, I would get sick.  His exact words were, “Chani you need to take a break from work. You need to schedule some time for yourself, away from Footsteps, away from your private practice, away from family... Just you! Your body will give up, no one can maintain this pace of pressure and responsibilities.”

I used to be great at taking time off. As a single mom, I would make time to go away for a weekend every three months. Now however, I am in a relationship with kids in the house. We have found a way to create time for us as a couple and nurture our relationship.  But time for me—alone time—is something I struggle with.

I am the queen of helping others set aside time to get away from their life, to rejuvenate and create space. Afterwards, my clients thank me for encouraging them to do it. Together we look at their schedule and create pockets of time that is just for them.

I know that I all have to do it carve time out, create it, block it off in my calendar and most of all give myself permission to do this.

 I didn’t do it.  And my body reacted.

I am lucky like that. After years of teaching myself to take time when I need it, my body now protests if I don’t.  And if I keep going it stops working.  It forces me to stop. I was in bed with fever for 4 days!

My life had to stop –

My emails and texts had to go unanswered.

Client sessions cancelled.

House and home not cleaned.

I simply stopped.

I look at myself with shame and guilt.

I knew what I needed to do, but didn’t do it.

I knew that I was working too hard, taking on too much, and not making time for me.

Had I done what I knew I needed to do, had I set aside time to stop, to breathe, to recuperate; I have a very strong suspicion that I would not be laid up in bed for 4 days with a fever cursing through my veins.

So I am taking that time now.  I am going away for the weekend—just me.

I am going to spend time with nature. Hiking through trees and stones, and stopping to admire the sea. Nature is the beauty of creation that is here for all of us to enjoy.  The energy that makes me forget the everyday grunge of life, and connects me with the source of life.

What revitalizes you?

What invigorates your soul?

What does it take for you to stop?

How can you give yourself breathing room before it is forced upon you?

SAVE THE DATES:

6/24/16- Tehom: Deepening our Prayers:
A Renewal Friday night service at the Fair Lawn Jewish Center

Fair Lawn, NJ

1/15/17—Coming  of Age – How to create rituals for Coming of Age  - One Spirit Learning Alliance, NYC

2/17/17—President’s Weekend –

Nehirim Women’s Retreat, An LGBTQ Spiritual Shabbaton – Forgiveness, What’s in it for me?

Pearlstone Retreat Center: Maryland