I too would like to thank Caryn and Ruthie for starting this inspiring group. I printed a great number of the divrei Torah on erev Rosh Hashana, and they were incredibly inspiring.
Each year, when I receive the initial email from Caryn and Ruthie, I hem and I haw. I have never been good at daily activities (even now, with 3 kids on anti-biotics for strep, I missed a dose!) This year, Ruthie did not let me hesitate. I had called her for an update on Elisheva Bracha Chaya and she left me no choice by immediately telling me she was signing me up and would give me “easy tehillim.” For this I thank her because it truly did make it easier for me.
As many of you know, I spend my days writing about a wide variety of Jewish topics, which actually sometimes makes it more challenging to feel as if I am writing something new and inspiring. In the past years I have often found myself using this dvar Torah as a cathartic opportunity to both write on a personal level and to open my heart and admit my great challenges. This year has not been without its challenges, and sadly many of them are the exact same challenges I have faced in the years past - too much anger, not enough patience, too much working, too much judging others.
This Shabbas was Shabbas Shuva (yes, I am writing this motzei Shabbas...don’t ask!). This year, instead of trying to “connect” to the “feelings” I think that I am supposed to be feeling, I have found myself approaching the aseret y’mei teshuva in a more practical manner. For Shabbas Shuva it was actually a very, very practical manner. I bought “bitter nail” and put it on my nails and that of my two oldest children who are nail biters. I did NOT bite my nails all Shabbas. (For those of you who don’t know people with this bad habit, let me tell you that it is incredibly difficult to break.) Conscious of the nail biting because of the “bitter nail,” I found myself more conscious of Shabbas in general.
Perhaps this can be a beautiful analogy to all averos. My son told me he doesn’t bite any more. I held out his hand to show him the nails and said...”Yes, you do, you just don’t even realize when you are putting your fingers to your mouth. You do it without noticing.”
How often do we speak loshon harah without realizing it? Ok, butloshen harah is the easy analogy. Let’s be honest, it’s the most frequent trangression people make and, perhaps, the most discussed (except maybe tznius). But look further. How often do we take a bite of something and forget to make a bracha, eat something and never get around to saying the after-bracha, or steal someone else’s time (or even ideas) without considering our actions?
Alas, God has not provided a “bitter nail” for our daily lives because then we would not have free will. (But it would be so much easier!)
When I sat down to write, however, this is not where I expected to go. (Nor can I neatly tie these two sections together...sorry.)
As Shabbas went out, I glanced back at the parasha and had an all together different line of thought. What jumped out at me from this weeks parasha, and connected to next weeks parasha (which is appropriate on Motze Shabbat) was the concept of song.
As I alluded to above, and as those of you who know me will recognize, “spiritual” is not a description I use of myself. I don’t easily connect to the emotional side of Judaism. I don’t get goosebumps at the kosel or lose myself in prayer. (I truly wish that I did.)
When I do wish to daven for something particular, I always feel self-conscious and at a strange loss for word. (Odd for a writer, don’t you think.) A few months ago, feeling challenged by this fact, I decided that when I did wish to turn to personal tefilla, the best means for me to do so would be through song. One of the most moving prayers I ever felt myself pray was when I was in Israel in 1994 and the soldier Nachson Wachsman had been kidnapped by Arabs. That Shabbas, walking to shul at Hebrew U., I sang out to Hashem the refrain from “Bring Him Home” (Les Miserables).
Since making the decision to sing my prayers, I have actually done so on a number of occasions. (I would add here that, perhaps for the first time, I have felt truly moved by reciting Tehillim over the last few weeks when saying them for Elisheva Bracha Chaya...which has also helped me connect to reciting the Tehillim for this group.)
In Parasha Vayelch, it is written “And Moshe wrote this song on that day.” The song, written out in next week’s parash Haazinu, opens with praise of Hashem and a reminder that Hashem is our Creator and the rock of our lives. Moshe sang of all the kindness that Hashem did for our people. But then his song describes the transgressions that overcome our people and God’s wrathful response. From wrath, however, Moshe sang of hope and love and our ultimate redemption.”
Moshe song was both a lesson for the Jewish people, one that is relevant to every generation, and a prayer stated in narrative. Our job is to listen to this prayer and respond by recognizing Hashem’s greatness and following in his ways.
In just a few days it will be Yom Kippur. As we head into this holiest of days, I wonder how I will achieve what I wish to achieve. My greatest height of “spiritual connection” on Yom Kippur was attained through the rigor of standing in shul an entire day. It has been 8 years since I have been able to go to shul on Yom Kippur (Barch Hashem) and, in truth, I no longer even feel that I could concentrate if someone volunteered to take my children all day.
Perhaps, however, I will remember this d’var Torah, my promise to sing and God will accept my heartfelt desire to truly grow in the year to come.
In addition to Caryn, Ruthie and the entire Elul women’s group, I would like to thank my husband for putting the kids to bed and cleaning up while I composed this dvar Torah.
In the merit of the women of this Elul group, I will be giving Tzedakah to Midreshet Rachel v’Chaya.
I wish you all a successful Yom Kippur.
(Oh and don’t’ forget that Montreal is a great place to visit!!!!!)
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