Aug. 20, 2015
For years, I have lived for the weekends. Comedy/musical performances, bartending/serving gigs, booking shows/parties, DJing/officiating weddings, and more. I have always felt a tremendous power in the days that people reserve for themselves, for creativity, for expression, for joy.
I want to keep living for the weekend. I want to set aside room and space for creativity, for joy, for expression, for connection. And I want to do that in a way that honors Life beyond myself, beyond my perception, beyond my ego and my understanding.
Over the past few months, I have discovered the more than bone deep joy of the Sabbath day. I have heard clearly the name of the powers that I have unconsciously experienced every Friday night and Saturday for the past 35 cycles around the sun.
I want to rend the barriers between me and my Creator, the veils of convention, of convenience, of compromise, of fear. I want to stand tall and let the Universe scoop all the excuses, the distractions and the pettiness, the pride and the doubt out of me for just one day, for 26 glowing honey-colored honey-flavored hours.
I want to offer to my G-d as a sacrifice all the moments of the week, when I thirsted for validation from others: when I panted for compliments and attention. I want to set free my nagging thoughts to fly away like great flocks of pigeons.
I have decided to start keeping the Sabbath day holy.
Because I feel the ecstasy of only answering to the Total Pervasive. I feel the lightness of letting go, of trusting, of not doing, and not needing and not scheming. The glory of focus and fulfillment.
I have prior commitments and plans on upcoming Shabboses that I intend to keep. But I will make no more plans for subsequent holydays (from 18 minutes before sunset Friday night until 3 stars are visible in the same patch of sky on Saturday nights).
For the most part this means no more of so many of the things I love doing. And for this I celebrate. Because I am not what I do.
I don't mean that doing things isn't important. We are all responsible for our actions, for doing better. For lifting the world, for loving each other, for making a difference.
But I believe that beyond the doing, beyond what ever goodness we can scratch out of ourselves in the world through action, there is still something more. Something intrinsic that points to the majesty of the universe that I couldn't begin to describe even if I had William Shakespeare's tongue and Audre Lorde's soul. Something that reminds me that even if (G-d forbid) I became blind, paralyzed, mute and deaf, I would still be as important to world as I am now. Because Life is always more holy than our ability to perceive/understand it.
I'm not giving up what I like: I am gaining what I need, what I have always desired: Peace. through sweat and tears. fragrant and in bloom.
Will I have peace at every moment on every Shabbos? Probably not. But I will do everything in my power to open myself to the blessings of G-d's peace because I long for that, and because the world deserves it. For every person who has hacked open the pathways of peace into the red fibers of their own heart, takes a little pressure off the rest of the world to try and do that for them.
This is not a rejection of all the beautiful things we have shared together on Fridays and Saturdays over the years. This is the result. I feel so lucky to have lived all the lives I have in 35 short years so far, and I await the revelation of the unexpected moments to come be they blissful or sad.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable before S/He who sustains me. May S/He continue to bless me with the strength to open to Her/His blessings and keeping finding more of Her/Him in every facet of Life.
I send my love and gratitude to all of you. I thank you for all your support and Love and understanding through my many adjustments. May you learn deep lessons with minimal struggle, and may you feel light and life in all your actions and be truly present to that which is within/without you.