Hymns To The Schechina

Oh there You are!

Was wondering where You had gone…

Actually it was I who was out to lunch

You know,

The brain does its thing

The Kritik remains in overtime

The doubting Thomas pokes his finger

Into the wound,

And the reality per reality bears down so heavily

Once more I retreated

Must be a year now

Thinking my self-worth and approval might come

From a local, earthly, social source…

All that work!

All the neediness.

But in the process I neglected You

And You

Came back at me with a rude awakening

A vengeance

For now

Rejected

Betrayed

And exposed!

I return,

Knees bent

Humbled

For having neglected You.

In the Mikvah yesterday

I melted

And Rebbe’s Torah Tinyana 12

Picked me up once more

By his paradox

His humanity

As if he had truly been there

Rock bottom

As well

Alongside me

And was giving me advice

Suddenly

The tears welled up

And this “kavod” he speaks of

This glory made itself present

As I sit today at my shtender in the quiet Beis Medrash

Humbled by the presence of Thou.

It’s not like an I-Thou

Thing..though

I expect no verbal response

But this non-rational sensation came to me

And comforted me

So that this morning my legs went to the Mikvah to dissolve in its waters

And wash the soul of its filth.

I feel optimistic today

Ready to enter the Succah

And feel the “Succot Dovid ha-Nofales”

Feel Her pain, the ongoing Galut

And the “shelter of faith”

We claim in our sacred texts.

In a sacred space

This morning the world is right

Everything is at it should be

Despite the suffering

Despite the self-loathing

Despite the long history of failure

The morning fog hangs over the landscape

Like a blanket of white wool

And the glorious tree

Whose dying leaves reveal their true color

In front of my home

Reminds me that nature too is incarnated.

We are expected to emerge from the safety of our homes into this

Temporary dwelling the Succah

And as the Midrash claims [1]

we somehow pre-empt any divine decree of Galut

By exiling ourselves into the Succah.

This year has been a long exile

So it feels comfortable, even familiar to sit here under the Schechina.

In the dying of the leaves

Their true color emerges

This tree before my home

Reminds me of temporality

For she will have shed her glorious leaves in a couple of weeks

Leaving the bare bark to endure the long winter’s discontent.

It arrests me as I leave my home

I cannot just pass it by

It lays claim to me

Reminding me

There is work to do

A trace of my voyage here to leave.

[1] Psikta deRav Kahana “Nosafot” to Deut 16:13