Getting out of my head

I had something of a revelation today. Yesterday my rabbi recommended a combined relaxation and meditation exercise before reciting the Shema at night. I didn't think much about it, but thought it would be a nice way to prepare myself mentally for rest while adding to my Jewish practice.

Today two people touched me through words and experiences, making me realize that while I was nodding along and adding the meditation and Shema to my mental "to do" list, I wasn't feeling it.

First, I was told by a dear friend that she is amazed by me for the religious search I've undertaken, and the type of faith that requires. It seemed to her that it would take a great deal of fortitude to do that, and of course she's right. In order to stay the course, I will be facing many challenges above and beyond what I've dealt with to this point. But more than that, I need to nuture what she would call my "faith," my connection with G-d and the Jewish community.

Second, tonight I paid a visit to a favorite blog of mine, Amanda's Just Call me Chaviva. Since I've been busy trying to catch my own tail lately, I haven't been able to keep up with all of the blogs that I normally find time for. I had several posts to catch up on, and one of them was a beautiful slideshow of a B'nai Mitzvah ceremony held on Masada in Israel, in which Chavi took part. The pictures were very moving, and I found myself with a lump in my throat at one point. When did I come to identify with these people in tallitot and kippot so strongly? I'm sure it's been a gradual process over the last year and some, but it just hit me all of a sudden that I was no longer feeling an outsider to this, I was viewing this through the inside lens.

It was in that moment of emotional identification and happiness for the joy on the face of Chavi that I realized I have been spending most of the last year operating from my head, not my heart. "Judaism" had become a cerebral exercise, something to conquer, a deadline to meet. I had lost that particular joy that first drew me to temple, that feeling of the awareness of Shabbat, the comfort in the sound of the prayers, the warmth of the shared Kiddush and Oneg Shabbat. I let things get in the way of my attendence at temple, and while I was still observing Shabbat by lighting candles, and saying blessings and kindling the Chanukah lights, it was still not reaching my heart.

Seeing the shared joy of the b'nei mitzvah on Masada, the austere beauty of the land of Israel, and the striking colors of the flag contrasting with earth reminded me of what I am missing. Now that I have felt the brush of that emotion again, perhaps I will be better able to find it in the future. You can be sure I'll be examining the state of my kavanah, my intent, as I go forward in my daily practice. This isn't a class exercise, it's life and connection. Just as with an electrical circuit, I have to be fully plugged in to make the connection work. Here's hoping.