Hey all. I wrote up this whole long post on Rosh Hashana, but I also wanted to give a quick update on things here, and let you know a bit of what my life is like at the moment, so I’ll do that first:
I’m feeling pretty content, most of the time. I love learning, I love being in Israel, I love the independence I have here, and I love the people I am meeting. I’ve made a few friends who I feel very close to, and I love that there is such a variety of girls at my school. Some grew up religious, others not, some are looking to become more observant, others are just interested in learning, some are young and some are much older. Everyone is open, intelligent, and excited to grow, in whatever way they can.
I also love the way the school itself works; classes are small, as is the building itself -- it’s basically a 2-story brownstone, so there are only 4 “classrooms,” one of which doubles as the dining room, plus a kitchen, a computer lounge, a library, and a reception area. It really does feel like you’re going to someone’s house to learn every day, which I really enjoy. There are only about 50 girls there, and we all live in apartments scattered around the community. Mine happens to be the furthest away, and is a 20 minute walk, so it’s a good way to start out my day. Classes consist of 2 parts: first, we learn the text on our own with a partner, (called a chavruta) basically grappling with it, interpreting the hebrew, figuring out what it means on our own. Then, for the second half, a Rabbi or Rebbetzin will take over and elucidate for us, go more in depth, and create discussion. It’s a great way to learn something, as it gives us a chance to really wrestle with the text, rather than just hearing someone lecture to us about it.
At the same time as I love the learning and the people, I still have a lot of that homesickness going on. I miss Ezra terribly. I know I never took our time together for granted, but somehow it still feels like I should have appreciated him even more while I still got to be around him. And it hurts. A lot. Still, now that we’re so far apart, the distance is only making me feel closer to him, if that makes any sense at all. I think of him a lot, even though I know I’m supposed to be so focused on myself right now, but I don’t think that’s such a bad thing. What’s the point of focusing on yourself if not to grow in ways that make you better at relating to those you love? I don’t even know if that feeling is mutual, but I certainly hope it lasts. I’m also just missing the familiarity of home, of New York, of my family and friends. I miss the comfort of cuddling up on my couch to the Daily Show, having dinner with my Mom, grabbing lunch uptown with my Dad, going out for drinks with David and Danielle, seeing Rae and Liat after they get out of work. I know, I only really had that life for about a month this summer, but I miss it anyway. I’m just so far away here, in so many ways. Even on this blog, although I love the dialogue it has stimulated, the comments sometimes make me feel even more distant. Actually, at the moment I’m feeling it particularly strongly. I kind of want to jump on a plane and come home for the holidays. Sigh. (you should know, I wrote the first 2 paragraphs last night, after a good day, and the second this morning, at the start of a pretty bad one. So that should explain the differences. Blah, I feel pretty down right now. )
So, yeah, I love it, and sometimes I don’t. So now that I’ve completely contradicted myself in the last few paragraphs, I’ll speak a bit on Rosh Hashana.
In Judaism, the new year isn’t really analogous to the secular one. A secular new year’s eve is all about the party, the drinking, the hype, and the eventual inevitable let-down of a night that simply never lives up to expectations. The Jewish one is more like a celebration of time itself, an acknowledgement that we have come full circle, all the way through all those other holidays and seasons, back to the same point we’ve been at so many times before, but this time, hopefully at a higher and better place than in the past. Time is not linear according to Torah; it is an upwards spiral, one that continually goes around and around, each time rising up another level of maturity, goodness, and holiness. It’s all about growth. Am I a better person this time around? Did I improve? Did I try harder, work on myself, learn, and become more than I was? New Year’s Eve resolutions often boil down to things like exercise and diet. But those considered on Rosh Hashana have a lot more to do with real personal growth, such as how you interact with other people, and how you see your relationship with Hashem, (if you are into that). It’s a time to really think hard about the year that has passed, evaluate each and every moment that you can remember, and then consciously choose to learn from your mistakes and victories alike, moving forward with a renewed vigor and zeal for life. Rather than making empty promises to yourself, you’re supposed to focus on where you are realistically heading, based on where you have been and where you want to end up.
Teshuvah, or “returning” (to what? Goodness? Yourself?), is supposed to be like a rebirth; it is described by many as a kind of healing. Much as physical healing brings our bodies back to their natural healthy states, so too tshuva healing can bring our inner selves back to a natural state of purity. The difference being that through tshuva, you return to your natural state with a strengthened ability to weather challenges that will inevitably arise in the future, since you have consciously chosen to be better. Physical healing tends to feel like it is something that happens to us, by taking the right medicines that a doctor prescribes, and sometimes just letting time work its magic on that nasty cold, (although there is surely a mind element to that as well,) whereas in Teshuvah, we are meant to take the reigns, choose to improve, and choose to use this gift of rebirth as an opportunity for greatness rather than a get out of jail free card.
I’ve also learned that while this yearly cleansing is a gift, it is one that is really only received by those who acknowledge it as such. For instance, last year, I didn’t really notice the holiday at all. Sure, I went to meals with family. But I didn’t go to shul, I didn’t really think about much at all, I just let the days pass by like any other. As a result, I doubt anything really changed within me. This time, I hope to do things a bit differently. Why pass up this opportunity? Even for those who don’t believe in G-d, I think it’s a good thing to have a time each year when you force yourself to focus on your strengths and faults, and evaluate where you can improve. Goodness knows we won’t do that on New Year’s Eve. So why not now? Give it a shot; it feels pretty good, I think.
Interestingly, I just learned that on the actual day of Rosh Hashana, we are not supposed to do any tshuva at all. Certainly on the days surrounding it, and on Yom Kippur, but on the actual day, we’re supposed to just focus on the fresh start, and on Hashem’s goodness in the world, if you like. (I feel like I keep having to supplement any statement I make about G-d with a “if you want to,” so from now on, I’m just gona leave it assumed.) Anyway, it’s supposed to be a day of seeing goodness around you, of connection, of joy, of love. So, you might ask, why not have yom kippur first? Why not first do tshuva for the things we did wrong last year, so that we can then be joyful and excited about the coming year with a clean slate? The answer is that you can only do tshuva after you have acknowledged that there is a reason for it in the first place. If the world has no meaning, no beauty, no anything, then what’s the point of trying to be better? So that’s why it goes in that order.
One last thing I learned that I really liked. Rosh Hashana is supposed to be first and foremost about the clal, the community. Yom Kippur is more personal/individual, but Rosh Hashana is meant to be experienced with others. Another word for “community” in hebrew is “tzibur”: we are told to daven “b’tzibur” on rosh hashana, not by ourselves. The word itself reveals what “community” means in this context. “Tzibur” is a contraction of 3 words: Tzaddik, Beinoni, and Rasha, which mean a righteous person, an in-between person, and an evil person. So, when we are told to daven b’tzibur, we are really being told to include every single type of person in the community: not just the good guys, and not just for the bad guys, but rather with and for each and every person there is. Rosh Hashana is not the time to differentiate, to make our own judgments of others, to typecast. It is a time to welcome everyone in, and be as one as we face the new year.
Thought that was nice. So maybe next week, if you go to shul or not, if you have a meal, if you're just with family, think about goodness in the world, and rebirth, and how everyone matters. We're all in this world together, after all. Nice to have a day to acknowledge that.
Shana Tovah Umetukah,
Shira
PS here’s a cute Rosh Hashana song on youtube: http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=vOTOdBzSpYc
And a rap about it that has become a bit of a running joke, even tho it says some serious things: http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=LeFdYp5rU-0
Pps I added gadget thingies to the side of my blog, I’ll prob add more in the future. For now, I put up some clocks, and a science news scroll thing. (I’m cool, I know.)
