Tag: Judaism

Opening boxes

This past Saturday life, and choices previously made, took on new meaning.

A little less than two years ago I converted to Judaism after two plus years of study – first on my own, and later with a group of others under the tutelage of a rabbi who also became my friend.

Judaism provided me with a sense of peace, belonging, kavana aka intention. It grounds me and gives me a sense of purpose as well as a framework and network to do good to and for others, which aside from being a mitzvah, is something that is a recurring purpose in my life.

As I was debating taking my studies further to be with a rabbi and trying to decide how much this was important to and core to who I am, I visited the local Holocaust museum. I read every plaque. I looked closely at every picture and item displayed. I repeated the question to myself, “If this happens again, how would I (re)act? How would I feel? Can I take this on?” I walked out that day with a sense of purpose, that yes, even should the worst happen again, I would face it, proudly a Jew.

Saturday morning I went to early voting at a new county facility. At one point in the long wait, while standing next to a police officer, I had a terrible thought… What if someone came in and started shooting or had a bomb? There was no form of shelter. There was limited access in/out. There were only two officers. There had been no metal detector or wanding. I live in an area (state? county?) where folks can openly carry as well as conceal carry (weapons); there were no signs asking people to not carry. Heck, someone could say something to someone else and trigger a shooting.

It was a sobering thought.

Luckily, nothing happened at that facility.

When I got back to my car and decided to take a moment to review my Twitter stream that I learned, as I had those sobering thoughts, a synagogue was facing the terror of being gunned down by a madman, simply for being Jewish.

I’m not going to go into the debate about gun ownership, including what type of guns should be available to the public. I’m not going to go into (mental) health care and how it or the lack of it is (tied to gun sales) or impacts ones actions.

I found it profound, as I have in many other instances when this sort of thing happens, that I knew it was happening. My brain picked up on whatever vibes and thought about being shot at in a public space at the same time that it was occurring elsewhere.

I also found it profound how it impacted me the rest of the day. While driving I worried that someone would know I was Jewish and shoot me or ram me with their vehicle. While sitting in a fast food restaurant I worried that someone would ram a car at the window I sat at or would come through the door to shoot me, just for being Jewish. All of those were incredibly long shots to be nigh impossible. After a while, I found a sense of equilibrium and moved on to anger and sadness for those killed and their friends and family.

I revisited my thought process from three years ago, asking myself, what would I do? Would I hide my being Jewish if it came to survival? Would I instead be proud of who I was and this tribe I am a member of and do what I can to fight back, to repair the world in whatever way I can. It’s harder when one knows how easily it could actually happen. The metro area I live in has a large Jewish population and also sees a lot of acts of antisemitism.

But I knew, I would still stand tall and fight back. This is who I am, who I have fought long and hard to find and be.

While it happened many hundreds of miles away, I knew that the likelihood of copycat actions was plausible in my area. I had the thought that my family could be concerned about me as well as about attending my shul for my upcoming nuptials. Thus, I proactively reached out to close family to let them know some basics regarding the safety measures my synagogue has taken in the past and is continually looking to improve.

It was fascinating the responses I got. And a little heartbreaking. One family member showed their narcissism in not having thought about it at all. Another had a vigilante mindset. A third had a compassionate response. A few years ago this would have surprised me, but things have changed in the past year.

Sunday morning I went to a meeting to hear about security measures at my shul, to be reassured. I learned that within minutes of the event starting, local police went to each shul in its jurisdiction to ensure that they were safe in case it was a targeted, larger scale event.

The fact that law enforcement took it as a credible possibility and acted proactively reinforces the reality as well as how ignorant and hurtful that one family member could be so dismissive of my safety.

My fiance appreciated how I felt that the community devistated wasn’t localized to just that shul, but that, while I did not know anyone there, I felt they were my family, my people who were hurt. I saw an image recently that stated ‘when any Jew hurts, we all hurt. We cry as a family. We are family.’

 

What is community

Two plus years ago I took a very scary step. I gave religion a second chance after giving up on it many years ago.

I didn’t feel any fulfillment from organized religion. I had been burned in niche communities with the drama or being used in someones agenda. I had a hard time reconciling faith with science. Despite all that, I stood by the quote from Contact (the movie, never read the book,) “[…] we belong to something that is greater then ourselves […]” This book and movie was before the popularization of the Higgs-Boson, though I suspect Carl Sagan was aware of it when he wrote. Read more

Biological clock

Growing up I never thought twice about kids. I loved kids – playing house with dolls evolved into babysitting and volunteering to help in the classrooms of younger kids. I was great with kids and they loved me.

When I was in college, I was stupid. On many levels. And I got pregnant. It was one of the roughest things in my life – to date. Which being damn near 20 years later says something. It didn’t work out for many reasons. The how and why I wrote about once, but this post isn’t about that experience.

Even after that experience I still thought I might have kids in the future. Although, it scared me to the point that I questioned if it was my one chance. Then I fell in love for the umpteenth time and got married. Sadly, that didn’t work out either. And during that marriage and all the adulting and growing I had to do during that time I slowly gave up on the idea of having kids. To the point I was adamantly against having kids.

After the marriage dissolved I dated. I was lucky in that I found guys who for their own reasons also didn’t want kids. But then a ‘what if’ happened. Most likely it was a weird medication related thing, but for a very long 69 days I wondered if I was pregnant again. Of course, during that time frame the guy I had been with for over a year had broken up with me, thus making the situation more stressful. But it awakened in me a need.

Actually several needs. In addition to realizing that maybe I did want to have a kid, I also realized that I had been searching for a long time for belonging. Again, that goes to a lot of deep psychological things over a lifetime that I won’t get into in this post. This other need led me to Judaism. It was here that I found a family and felt so connected and supported like never before (even though many people did their best – from blood family, my exhusband and his family, and others.)

Part of the healing that learning about and practicing Judaism was embracing the idea of kids. Now, there is a double edged sword because being an adult that isn’t a parent or grandparent there are a lot of gaps and salt in wounds that many may not realize. It is never done on purpose. But it stings a lot regardless.

Several months ago I met a guy whom I’ve been dating since. We had the discussion about wanting a serious relationship and kids on the first call he made to me to ask me out for our first date. Bonus that he is Jewish and understands the value and importance that the Jewish community has for kids. I have a feeling this might go somewhere. Of course, it might not, too. I’m still assessing him and he probably is me too. 😉

I have a close friend who went through a lot in trying to have children, many years of pain, frustration, anger, and medical treatments. Luckily, she had her miracles, all three of them. I’ve read many accounts of others regarding their experience with infertility.

I’m already 39. This has so many risks and possible issues inherent with the concept of pregnancy. Even though my guy and I are still early in our relationship each of the past few months I’ve started to notice something. In each of the infertility stories there is talk about the frustration, anger, questioning, etc that accompanies each new period. A reminder that something you want and is getting less likely as time marches on is slipping further away from you. It seriously has started to move me to tears.

This journey has been a very interesting one. No one knows what the future holds. But even when not even trying, it is odd how I am paralleling the emotions of those who have been.

Terrorism everywhere

Everyone has been speaking about Charlottesville, VA lately after the awful, anti-semetic, hate march. It came up at the gaming group last weekend, and I think I said something wrong. I mentioned how I had family there. I validated that the city of Charlottesville is very blue politically and actually a great place. I could feel the side eye.

The thing is, it has been clear from numerous articles and otherwise that many of the hate groups and domestic terrorists came from elsewhere, not Charlottesville itself. At least not entirely. Let’s face it, no place is free of any type of personality/group. One of my aunts wisely told me, many years ago, that “No matter where you go, you will always encounter the same people, just with different faces.”

Similarly to my eventual point, recently a hate group ate at a local restaurant. There was a big to do because the staff were not comfortable and the owner supposedly made little of it and supported the patrons rather than the staff. I made note of this place and marked it on my “places to eat” map with a note to NEVER go there.

I can see already in the Jewish community the general consensus to not go to Charlottesville, or Virginia at all. The owner of that restaurant made a very public apology and donated a significant amount to charities that were the opposite of the hate group; but I haven’t removed my notation to never eat there.

I wonder how knee jerk and how long our personal and communal memories are and how that will impact other communities. If someone never visited Charlottesville, VA because of this horrid march they would be missing out on great food, history (that is presented accurately and neutrally unlike other areas of the state and South), and amazing views of the Blue Ridge mountains – not to mention some awesome people and their hospitality. The fact it now has been tainted by people who don’t even live there, but happened to use it as a stage is so damaging.

I don’t know if there is a solution. Well, other than waving a magic wand to make the country less divisive, more tolerant, self self centered, and more educated in some instances. :\ I guess I’ll just have to do my part to bring reality/neutral/facts where I can and to be more educated and open minded myself.

Jewish Weddings

Several years ago a coworker/friend got married. He wanted me to attend, but, couldn’t afford to invite me. I totally get that. So he told me the day and where – but not when. I was essentially given permission to crash. As it ended up, I showed up late – missed the ceremony and frankly didn’t spend much time at the reception. I didn’t know anyone else there and felt bad eating since I wasn’t an accounted for/invited guest. So I didn’t see more than 30 minutes of the reception.

Recently a friend got married, but it would be out of state. Another couple who are acquaintances also got married recently.

All three of these weddings are Jewish. As a recent Jewish convert, and with the hope to get married again someday, I wanted to see in action a Jewish wedding to understand how it differs from the multitude of Catholic, or other Christian or non denominational weddings I have attended over the years.

Being the nerd I am, I’ve done my research so I know the differences regarding the ketubah (marriage contract), chuppah (canopy), and the Hora (chair dance done to Hava Nigla/Oseh Shalom/Siman Tov.)

To be fair, this wedding was interfaith. I expected it to be more involved due to that. The ceremony was MUCH shorter than any other I had been to. There simply was less ceremony to it. It was processional, vows/rings, the traditional 7 blessings and Numbers priestly blessing, they did a unity candle (as a nod to the groom’s nonJewish family), and breaking the glass. Then it was pictures, food, and partying.

The other big difference for me was that it started on time. I have been to dozens of weddings and none of them started on time – not even my own! (Though that was my being benevolent and due to my future MIL running late.)

I half hope to see others to get a better feel for them in general.