Shabbat Chazon
Two weekends ago, I did a virtual meditation retreat at home.
I sat here, in my office, where I’ve have a meditation corner. The first day was especially hard: I felt frustrated that I had to be at home, still in the grip of ordinary responsibilities: figuring out meal logistics with my husband…taking out the trash, instead of being able to just rest in the silence of retreat.
As the day wore on, I found myself writing down ideas for exciting Orchard Cove programs, or new ways to lead my meditations on 918… When I finally saw what I was doing, I stopped…only to realize, later in the day, I had begun to rearrange the furniture! By the end of the first day, I saw these were strategies I had put in place to distract myself from the pain of the last few months.
*
Right now, we are in a time in the Jewish calendar, called Bein Hametzarim, “between the narrow straits.” These three weeks – between the 17th of Tamuz, the day the Babylonians breached the walls of Jerusalem; and the 9th of Av, the fateful day the destruction of the First and Second Temples took place, sending our people into exile -- are a time of mourning.
This period asks us to attend to the ways we feel ourselves in exile, disconnected from the Divine Presence, the web of life. It is an invitation to journey through a dark night of the soul; to let these historical events resonate within our own lived reality of abandonment, brokenness and alienation – so that we can see how far we are from where we want to be, in order to do teshuva, and eventually return to what matters most to us.
*
On the second day of retreat, the teacher invited us to ask ourselves, as we noticed feelings coming up, “Can I be with this (fear, sadness, anger) just for a moment?”
As I followed this guidance, I noticed the pain – not just of having to retreat from home -- but also of being unable to celebrate Shabbat with you all, and see your faces; of missing hugs from friends and visits with my family; of the ongoing impact of racial injustice in our country; of the devastating loss of life wrought by this pandemic.
Quaker teacher, Sandra Cronk, talks about the importance of facing the feelings that accompany a dark night of the soul. If we don’t try to brace against them, but soften into them, she says,
A profound re-patterning begins in us…because the old structure of our lives has been broken up…[and] a new center can emerge.
So for a moment at a time, I softened into my grief. I was even able to turn around and face it for a second, or two. As I did, I felt my heart get bigger. No longer wrestling with the discomfort, I felt free.
The Psalmist proclaims: “Those who sow in tears, reap in joy” (Psalm 126).
In the Jewish calendar, we live this: when this period of mourning ends, it is followed by seven weeks of consolation, assuring us, this too will pass, our tears will again turn to joy. Knowing this, may you feel permission to soften into whatever you are feeling. As we do, may we hear the stirrings of our hearts and souls, guiding us towards the renewal and hope that Rosh Hashanah will bring, so we are prepared to meet the joyous possibilities that await us there, in the year to come.