B’chukkotai – oh, on one condition….

26 Iyyar 5772 / 18 May 2012

There’s no such thing as a free lunch.  Much as we might want to kick and scream and stamp our feet  and shout ‘No!’ like the 2 year olds we all are inside, this is true of everything good in this life.  Such was the essence of what the Israelites were told in this week’s portion – do all the things that I ask of you and I will look after you.  Don’t do these things, go against my laws and you will be punished.  Sigh!  I’m sure that there was some private (and not so private) kvetching going on amongst the people when that was drummed into them!

I don’t like being told what to do any more than anyone else, although I grant that it’s almost certainly better not to question the wisdom of being told to run out of the burning building!  However, I will and do question other less life-preserving ‘orders’ – probably far more frequently than friends may be happy with…!  Call me life-curious if you’re feeling generous, call me by other less pleasant (and unprintable names) if I’ve caught you on a bad day!

But, back to the balancing scales of life, a state of being which gives with one hand and takes away with another.  When we were children, we had no responsibilties to start off with.  Our parents dealt with all of those things – feeding, clothing, shelter, warmth, unconditional love.  But as soon as we started to gather friends, we began to learn that we can’t just treat them any old how and expect them to continue to be our friends – not ones that are good for us, in any case!  And if our parents were helping us learn the tricks of life, they were also teaching us that unconditional love doesn’t necessarily mean that sometimes you won’t be told off, sometimes you won’t be able to get away with winning people round with a cheeky smile when you did something you really should have known better about.

But to whom do we bear responsibility, at the end of the day?  It has taken me literally decades to understand that our first responsibility is to ourself.  This isn’t about being selfish.  If we listen to our gut instinct, we know when we should or shouldn’t take a course of action.  If we ignore that instinct, invariably we pay the price later on.  Another aspect of this ‘taking care of ourselves’ approach is that if we do this, we each end up in a happier place.  We know what makes us tick, what makes our heart sing, what it is that creates our own personality.  If we know this, then we are on solid ground (even if we would like to improve on that ‘self’ that we know).  And if we know who we are, then I believe that good things follow.

Maybe I’m in a positive mood because it’s the end of the week (almost).  I suspect a large part of this surprising contentment is that in the past few days, a few things have finally fallen into place – not quite ‘Eureka!’ but equilibrium is in my grasp.  It doesn’t mean that I won’t continue to question almost anything though – life-curiosity is here to stay!

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

B’har – in which I rotate my crops

19 Iyyar 5772 / 11 May 2012

Crop rotation.  Ugh!  That very phrase reminds me of an exceedingly uninspiring history lesson from high school.  Don’t get me wrong, I love history – but at the tender age of 15, social & economic history didn’t inspire me in the slightest!  And hence, the internal shudder I get at the phrase ‘crop rotation’ (along with Spinning Jenny and The Corn Laws!).

However, it is an important concept – rotate your crops and the soil regains strength. A plant which makes a different demand on the good earth from the previous year (barley versus potatoes, for example) won’t exhaust the nutrients – and even better, if you can, let a field lie fallow and take a breather.  This ‘lying fallow’ every 7 years is the central theme of this week’s portion, at its most simplistic.  If you’re not a believer in God, it’s a reminder that we don’t own the land, but are merely guardians for Nature and for future generations.  If you do believe, then insert ‘God’ where ‘Nature’ sits, and take it from there.

I think it’s safe to say that in certain respects, I am lying fallow this year.  It’s what I need.  To regroup, rebuild my ‘nutrients’, do things like read undemanding chick-lit type books rather than worthy, brain-stretching books.  Have a lie-in (or what passes for one, for me) at the weekend if I want.  Watch an entire series of my latest joy, European sub-titled crime/political dramas in one sitting.  Not take up big projects – in fact, not take up any, if I’m honest.  Allow myself some space to breathe.  Work hard at work, be the best I can be there and r-e-l-a-x in my free time.  Learn to say ‘no’ when before, I would say ‘yes’.

And how does that work for me?  Actually, very well.  I’m learning things about myself, reconnecting with some of the aspects of the mid-twenties ‘me’ that were my best bits and which I had lost sight of some time ago.  Burn-out has been given the swerve.  Looking back, I was millimetres away.  Now, I am rejoicing in the fallow and letting myself drift – for the time being.

Have you stepped back?  How did it work for you?

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

Emor – the mongrel years

12 Iyyar 5772 / 4 May 2012 

Are you scratching your head at the title up there?  What on earth has being a mongrel got to do with this week’s portion?  Quite a lot, actually…

At the end of the parshah, a young man is executed for blasphemy. The young man in question was the son of an Egyptian man and an Israelite woman – we have to assume that his mother had taught him ‘Jewish ways’ in the home, and yet that home environment would have been dominated by the ways of his father – a pagan in the eyes of the Jewish people.  Hence – blasphemy.

I’m a mongrel.  I wasn’t taught to curse and swear though!  My parents (both my birth parents and those related to me through later marriage) taught me morals and ethics that fit well with the morals and ethics of Judaism (at least the way I interpret Judaism).  And yet, I think that choosing to become Jewish as an adult has made my path through life far more tangential than otherwise.  I have my DNA-inherited code for life, my ‘watch and learn’ code instilled in me as I grew up into adulthood, the behaviours learned through navigating my way in the world of student-hood and then work, then from the people I chose to share my life with, in whatever form.  Then, most recently, the stamp of Jewishness.  It’s been a busy 40 plus years!

Currently, I am at a fork in the road.  There’s no signpost pointing the right way.  At least not one that is consistent from day to day.  If I wrote a list of pros and cons, I would be changing it day in, day out.  The other day I was having a conversation with a close friend where I heard myself saying essentially this: ’If you wait to know which is the perfect way of proceeding, you’ll never do anything’!  Yes – I should take my own advice.  Take a step forward, at least do something, rather than dithering.  I haven’t dithered so much in the past.  It seems as if in the past 20 years or so, I have become more timid, less trusting of myself.  Life has thrown the usual ‘stuff’ my way, but no more or less tragic than you’d expect of a life lived.

It is often said that you tend to regret the things you don’t do, rather than the opposite.  You learn from doing, not sitting on the fence watching the world pass you by.  Mongrel cats and dogs get on with life.  I’m a mongrel, for all of the reasons above, and probably more.  I think it’s time to take a step forward – and do.

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

Acharei Mot-K’doshim – being comfortable in your own skin

5 Iyyar 5772 / 27 April 2012

‘Love thy neighbour as thyself’.

Hmm.  Suffice to say, I have been struggling with getting comfortable in my own skin of late.  Some days, all is well.  On others… it feels as if I am either wearing one that is waaay too tight, or that I am like one of those puppies with the baggy coat (a Shar-pei, I think).  Either way, I just don’t feel quite right in myself.

So, how do we go about ‘loving thy neighbour’ if we’re not at peace with who we are, and what we do?  I’m not certain that I have the answer to that question, otherwise I would be a very rich lady.  But perhaps this sort of dissatisfaction with our ‘lot’ in life does provide a clue as to the sources of arguments, unrest, misery and malaise that we each have the ability to pass on to others, when we are feeling at our lowest ebb.  The phrase ‘misery loves company’ didn’t just appear out of thin air, after all!

To a certain extent, we are masters and mistresses of our own destiny.  We have the power to be happy, or not.  Or to at least know that being miserable is not going to change the current situation we are in - it’s just going to make us more miserable!  Of course, I am not saying that slapping on a smiley face has the power to change somebody else’s actions.  In a situation of extreme violence or danger, the person wielding the fist or the gun is probably not going to be disarmed by the shrug of your shoulders and the serenity of your expression.  But in more normal circumstances, deciding to step away from your own anger or frustration may at least make you feel less stressed about what is going on around you.  And you may just feel more at peace with yourself – and your neighbour – as a consequence.

Now, let’s see if I can take some of my own advice!

Shabbat Shalom – wherever you are…

Tazria-Mezora – to err is human….

28 Nisan 5772 / 20 April 2012

A short interlude.

I made a mistake and jumped ahead on the parshah – yes, that’s what happens when you ignore Pesach!  Still, I shall comfort myself with the observation that there is no such thing as failure, only feedback (one of the tenets of NLP, which I really do like the feel of – it gives us all the opportunity to give ourselves a break).

So.  We’re still with the lepers.  Which isn’t as flippant as it sounds.  How about interpreting such afflcitions in a different way – not physical afflictions, but emotional afflictions.  In the Torah, the priests could decree that a house (a home) could be torn down if the physical affliction could not be eradicated.  Imagine that.  But hold on – if we don’t take the literal meaning but instead interpret such an affliction to mean an emotional disruption, isn’t that what we do to ourselves when we allow negativity to seep into our relationships?  If we don’t take care of ourselves and each other?  If we let life get in the way?  So, whilst we don’t literally tear our homes apart, brick by brick, we do strip the heart and soul away so that all we are left with is a shell – the fabric, without the meaning, without the soul.

Food for thought, don’t you think?

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

Tazria – on the outside, looking in

21 Nisan 5772 / 13 April 2012

According to this week’s portion, a person afflicted with ‘leprosy’ must dwell alone outside the camp or city until he is healed, and the afflicted area in the garment removed.

Sometimes, we need to remove ourselves from the camp or city we have been dwelling in – whether that ‘camp’ or ‘city’ is a physical situation, or an emotional one. Why? The specific reasons can be as numerous as the grains of sand that lie on the ocean floor, but generally speaking, we take ourselves away from the situation to save ourselves – to retain our emotional well-being.

It took me a long time to realise that this isn’t somehow admitting defeat. It isn’t a reflection on my own internal strenght (or lack of it). Inability to deal with an increasingly difficult or painful situation isn’t a show of weakness. Removing yourself from whatever is causing pain, hurt, anger or any other emotional distress is a time-old way of protecting yourself, and giving yourself time to heal. The only caveat I would add is that whilst you are taking yourself away from the ‘city’ or the ‘camp’, don’t just stick your head in the sand and ignore your feelings. Take time to acknowledge them, take time to process them, learn the lessons you need to learn – and then move on. You will be stronger – and happier with yourself in the long run. If you don’t look after yourself, who will? If not now,when?

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

Shemini – kosher lobster anyone?

14 Nisan 5772 / 6 April 2012

(Yes, I am giving Pesach (Passover) the big swerve this week. Not only in my 3 dimensional life, but also here, in cyber-space. This is *the* festival that I struggle with. Not because I am not pleased that the Israelites were freed from slavery, but because I am not overly happy at the cost – the death of the Egyptians’ first-born. Plus, the whole seder ritual leaves me a little cold. Of that, I have no explanation. – - – Darn. By explaining away my non-mention of Pesach, I’ve mentioned it. Meh.).

Anyhoo…

So in this week’s parshah, the laws of kashrut are laid out before us. What is kosher, what is not. The root of both words kashrut and kosher (kaf-shin-resh) means literally ‘proper’, ‘suitable’, ‘fit’ or even ‘advantageous’. If you are an ‘observant’ Jew (and by that I mean Orthodox), then your interpretation of what is proper, suitable and so on to put in your mouth is likely to be wildly different to a Jew who identifies as Progessive (ie, the other end of the spectrum to Orthodox), and very different again from a Jew who follows a secular path.

Interpretation. Oy, such a loaded word. Show me a Jew who hasn’t wrestled with kosher/not-kosher, or even what kosher means to them. Is it kosher to utilise so many additional utensils to ensure you meet the restrictions relating to mixing (or not) meat, dairy and parve, in a time when over-consumption of resources is such a hot topic? And what about your vegetarian or vegan Jew? How does that work? Or the one who cannot resist the sight, sound and (most of all) smell of cooked bacon? Or what if your version of kosher hinges on how the animal was treated in life and during its death? Better to eat the bacon of a wild-roaming, organic food-munching pig than a cow that has been killed appropriately but never seen daylight?

Yes. I could go on. And on. And on (like the Ariston adverts, yes?).

Like practically everything about being Jewish (except kvetching – that is way too easy for us members of the tribe!), this subject is not easy. Personally, I say each to his own. Don’t expect to always feel one way about what you choose to eat and what you choose to walk on by and pass(over) (lol!). Your mind will change. Yes. It will.

Shabbat Shalom, wherever you are…

Oh, alright… and Chag Sameiach!