Souls

One of the things I think about when the term spirituality is used is the soul. The question of what happens to our souls when we die has always intrigued me; and at the same time, being in the presence of a loved one during his or her last days or directly after their death can be an experience that is profoundly soul effecting.

When my grandmother passed away over a year ago in July, I knew her beautiful, vibrant soul had to exist somewhere in some form, even though her body was lifeless. She had touched and loved others so deeply, and planted seeds of light, hope, and wisdom in those who loved her.

When families and friends united to share stories, keeping her memory alive, there were spiritual moments for many of us, as we felt both the power of remembering and the pain of her loss deep in our cores - in our souls.

Grieving Sucks

Thursday morning we suddenly lost our beloved father & grandfather, Danny Gould. If one believed in karma or that sort of thing, Danny would have gone instantly at his desk, playing piano and regaling his friends. He worked, lived and loved perfectly. All who knew him thought him perfect. Yet, despite always doing the right thing, the past year has been horrible for him. After 38 years with Warner Brothers, he lost his job last summer (at age 88, but still!). He's been watching his beloved wife of 59 years turn into someone almost unrecognizable due to Alzheimer's Disease. He's suffered from two strokes (both of which he made just about complete recoveries from). And last week, he suffered a catastrophic brainstem stroke which rendered him unable to swallow.

A nasogastric tube was inserted up his nose and a suction device placed at his bedside so he could try to manage his secretions. It was awful to see this man who loved eating and talking (we called him "The Speecher") unable to eat and barely able to talk. He was clearly uncomfortable, yet, we knew he was fighting hard to make a recovery. The doctors, social workers and his case manager were grim. His outlook for recovery was grim. His future, if he should survive, looked sure to include gastric tubes, a tracheotomy and chronic battles with pneumonia. How could such a loved, talented and rightous man be dealt such horrible cards? Why would he be destined to be today's Biblical version of Job?

While I certainly feel a sense of communtiy and support from my friends and synagogue family, I'm struggling to find spirituality in this whole thing. I wish I could believe that it was part of g-d's plan to end his struggle without additional suffering, but the logical part of me thinks that his death was just a logical consequence of food being aspirated into his lungs when he tried to eat for the last time. I know the whole thing about man not being able to know or comprehend G-d's purpose or plan, but still. Hard to feel spiritual when grieving sucks so much.

Finding Spirituality when dealing with death

This is a topic I find myself thinking about very often as I have a 96 year old grandma and Brad has a 92 year old grandma. While they are both in good health, the reality is that they have lived much longer than their peers. Each holiday or significant event, I am always thinking, "will this be the last time they are with us?" I am not trying to be morbid, just a realist.

Thinking back to other grandparent deaths, I hope that they both go quickly, preferably in their sleep without being hospitalized, hospice, 3 am phone calls etc. But, the flip side to this desire is that each time I talk to them or see them, it could be the last time.

I can remember spending time alone, listening to music and thinking (and crying) about the family member who recently passed away. That time is when I felt the most connection to them and to the world around me. Ironically, I do not like being in Temple because while I find the words and tradition to be comforting, I don't like being around so many people. And I want to cry.

I agree with what the Rabbi said about this being such a vulnerable time and it's during vulnerable times that people turn to God and religion. That might be why the B'nai Mitzvah students feel like they do.

Something tells me that I will be experiencing this in the not so distant future, so I will probably be better equipped to answer this question then.

Spirituality in the Face - or Because of - Death

This month we begin to consider spirituality at times of transition, particularly at times of death and dying.  Our question is:

Where do you find spirituality or the presence of the Holy One/Higher Power/God when loved ones are facing death and/or dying?

When I sit with our pre-B'nai Mitzvah students to prepare their divrei Torah (speeches), I always ask them "What do you believe about God and when have you ever felt close to God?"  A huge percentage of the young people talk about sensing God's presence when a loved one - usually a grandparent - has died.  Though the answers differ, they find a sense of connection with something bigger, something beyond, this realm.  Some feel like God is getting them and their families through the difficult period.  Others feel like this is not a regular time; it is more, deeper, poignant. 

Times when a loved one dies are among the most vulnerable moments in our lives.  Some of us are mad at the world/spirituality/God that this is happening.  Others see them as moments of intense spirituality. 

For me, these times - facing and living through the death of a loved one - are intense and incredibly spiritual.  We stand - literally - at the intersection between life and death... and whatever is after.  I am more aware of the blessings in my life.  I am more appreciative also. 

There is an incredible peace that comes - amidst the sadness - when someone dies. Peace that pain (or one kind of pain) is at an end.  Peace that what's next is out of our hands.  Hope that there is an Olam Haba, an existence that comes after this world.  And a  sense of assuredness - for me - that our souls become bound up with the Eternal Soul of the universe. 

Those are my thoughts. What are yours?

Staring at the ceiling

When I was a kid, I never liked the High Holy Day services. I was horrifically bored on one hand and terribly intimidated on the other. I can't even remember the name of the synagogue that I attended as a young child, but I do remember that the ceiling was one of those ceilings made up of lots of 12 by 12 tiles with tiny black holes scattered in random patterns on them. It must have been an older synagogue (or just possibly not constructed very well - where is Stephen Bloom when you need him?) because I distinctly remember water stains on some of the tiles and wondered if the stains were caused by G-d's tears. The services of my youth (I had to be less than 7 years old at the time) led what was probably pretty close to a "conservadox" service. Watching the cantor hit himself and plead for forgiveness was unsettling - I mean, what could the cantor possibly be asking forgiveness for? This just made me even more scared as I knew that I wasn't very nice to my brother. And I did sneak snacks before dinner. Sometimes I said I brushed my teeth when I really didn't because I didn't like how the orange juice would make the toothpaste taste after breakfast. Yep. I was a bad kid.

I was so convinced that G-d was literally writing down names in his book of life that I actually sat incredibly, unbelievably still in my seat - I just had to make a favorable impression on the big guy (or gal). I distinctly recall looking up at those little black holes and trying to glimpse G-d. I mean, the rabbi kept telling us how he was watching us and was everywhere. What if he didn't see me? What would happen if he spelled my name wrong? So there I would sit trying to make eye contact with G-d through the little black spaces in the ceiling tiles. After all, if I could insure that G-d actually SAW me, well, he would just have to write my name in his book!

Since then, events in my life have led me to be skeptical of an all powerful, Omnipresent Being running the show here on earth. Darfur and the holocaust also don't help the cause any. However, the older I get, the more I treasure the routines and traditions of my heritage. There is something so deeply moving, dare I say spiritual, about a gathering of people singing together. There is a spark of electricity when the community comes together in worship. Call it electricity, piety, spirituality, heck, call it whatever you want. I just know that since I started attending Congregation Or Ami, I actually like High Holy Day services. I guess there is a G-d after all!

Impact

Thursday 9/9/10

O.K. So, the High Holy Days and other significant spiritual notions were rattling around in my head. So much so, that usually I am a deep and heavy sleeper but I was awaken at 4:41 am this morning after an intense dream that involved Steven Spielberg and my spirituality. The dream isn't really important and just to sum it up Mr. Spielberg and I were riding in a car having and intense Torah discussion. The topic was the Akedah (the binding of Isaac) and the conversation was pandemonium, flowing, magical, spiritual, madness! When Mr. Spielberg and I realized what we were doing, we had a big laugh! We acknowledged each other’s enthusiasm and deep mutual love of our Jewish identities. I thanked him for pressing mine to me at a very young age through his philanthropic endeavors, films and his unashamed self-pride in being a Jew. I reminded Mr. Spielberg of his importance to Jews, “After all” I said, ''how many filmmakers can say they have affected people in the way you affected so many?'' Of course he took it in stride, though, he did shoot me a fake smile and I felt a bit like a kiss-ass. There was a long, awkward silence then, eyes wide open! It was 4:41 am and I was now awake and awake for good.

First I have to say that I didn't weigh in on the last question on our Spiritual Blog, the "Summertime Question" due to the fact my work schedule has never been more intense, tons of traveling, night work and a lot of 18 hour days. This turns out as all things do, if you allow them to unfold and stay in the moment, to be just fine. As things go my ''Summertime Question'' and response roll right into the High Holy Days question.

Utmost is that this has been one of the most spiritually powerful times in my life. Starting in the summer, on June 5th with the Bat Mitzvah of my daughter Sofia. The single most powerful experience (other than the birth of my children) in my life. When asked to describe, I say it was like my wedding on steroids. As intense, as spiritual, as warm, the overpowering love in the room, everything my wedding was but...it was for someone we love more than ourselves.

This past summer marked my return to meditation after a very long hiatus and with it, a clear intention. Meditation had been elusive the last few years to say least and intention, forget about it!

I also spent a good amount of time in Hawaii (for work). I am a former professional surfer who had devoted an enormous amount of time both in and out of the water to Hawaii, though I hadn't returned in many years. Hawaii is the Jerusalem of surfing, the spiritual center of the surfing universe and it is certainly not wasted on me. I surfed as much as I worked. With little sleep (I was working nights, albeit in the most beautiful locations you could ever imagine) but I was overflowing with monumental amounts of raw energy due to the environment surrounding me. Just the smell alone, not to mention the clarity of the water and sky… My soul had filled and was beginning to overflow.

Then there was my brother-in-law's twin daughters baby naming. My wife Janna and I were asked to write a brucha for the naming. Let me first say that writing a brucha is my absolute favorite task. To boil down the essence of love and devotion (all blessings can be distilled to these notions) into 80 words or less, (including a piece of the weeks Torah portion) is an art that I am fully adept at. So, I write Janna reads. She is too busy to contribute as a writer so, l write no problem. Simple. A great discovery was made! I write, Janna reads, all cry! The combination of my concise passion and Janna's supreme tenderness, dignity and repose while reading… Knocked it out of the spiritual park if you will. The great thing about such events is they are a win, win situation. After all who was to be blessed? Well, of course the babies and how wonderful the love for them but it always works in reverse as well. The babies get the group consciousness of love, in turn the babies open up our hearts and all feel the words (if they are paying attention, hence 80 words or less). It was an outstanding moment to say the least. My week was already made at this point, I needed nothing else to carry me spiritually until Shabbat. Though, shortly after the ceremony another wonderful event occurred. I was approached by the Rabbi, an exceptional women with whom I had taken a few classes a couple of years past. She hadn't remembered me from class (which I felt was a positive) but she wanted to know my deal. The Rabbi appreciated my words and wanted to know more about the man who wrote them. I told her of my passion for Judaism, writing and how all things in my life, I felt, were leading me down a path narrowing towards a new career. ''And with whom was I affiliated? Ah…Rabbi Paul Kipnes. Good! Good.'' After further probing and a short but intensely honest discussion I told the Rabbi of my not so secret dream of the Rabbinate and she responds with, ''You must take the next Lay Leaders Retreat at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality''. The Rabbi expresses her belief that perhaps I might better serve the Jewish community in other ways, that through meditation, Torah study and silence at the retreat I might find the proper path and with her words I am now flying! We also agree to keep in close touch throughout the process. I think, what an incredible afternoon, so many spectacular moments packed into 3 hours.

All of these events are at the forefront of my thoughts as I slept, like I said literally all this rattling around my brain. I awake at 4:41 am and I start to blog at 4:50 am (had to have coffee!). I write until the kids have to be taken to school. Close the computer, knowing I will not be able to return for a week. It will have to be after the High Holy Days I am working many long hours and this was my window until post Neilah.

Saturday 9/18/10

So, tonight I return and clean up what was previously written and add the High Holy Days portion. For those who attended the services you know. For those who attended the study sessions in-between? You are even more fortunate. Once again our hearts were filled with love, exultation and rapture. The rabbis, the cantor, the choir, the children, the soloists, the orchestra, the congregation, the venue, on and on I could go. So many times tears streamed down my face, the beauty of the music, the truth of the benediction, the history in our prayers, the embrace of my children, wife, mother-in-law and friends as we moved to and fro. This was perfection in moments. I pine for the High Holy days. I exist for this time, the time to shed life's transgressions and periphery, to decompress, gather up the family and go get our souls replenished. To stand in the congregation and belt out the Shema. To see all who I miss, love and have shared so much with at Or Ami. To hear my daughter sing Mi Chamocha. To see my son listen with intent. To watch my wife relax and become whole. To close my eyes and listen, as the grind of everyday life fades, the rabbi's words, the cantor's music, my heart ascends, as I fly through the universe as light.

''The High Holy Day and the impact on my spirituality?'' Impact defined as; the action of one object coming forcibly into contact with another.

You bet, as spirit and soul.

The High Holidays and the impact on my spirituality

I always find the High Holidays a chance to ponder the prior year and consider the next. The prayer book's text is rather overt in ensuring we think about such things, but the excercise at which ever service I am attending is always fufilling. In addition, my family keeps a journal about goals for the prior year, what we each accomplished both individually and as a family over those 12-13 months, and what we will do over the next 12-13 months. We have been doing this since 1996 when my first child was born.

In reviewing the prior year I get to think about what I did well and what I can improve. It can be heavy to have true introspection about times I could have behaved better and/or changed how I approached a situation. However, I do attempt to take the hard look and then reconnect with those that I may need to patch things up with.

I also find the saying "On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed" allows me to ponder what might be "written" about me and I have the 10 days to commit to what will be sealed. I consider the phrase all a metaphor but it is powerful to think that someone is alway watching (whether its kids, a spouse, a business colleague, etc.) and they can write me into their book of life. I always strive for an effort that will result in them "writing" about me in a good way and that I had a positive influence on their life. It is within these moment that G-d exists and is "writing" me in that I feel most spiritual (also know as the warm-fuzzies).

Last Stab at the Summer Question

I wanted to post an response to the summer question after realizing you snuck one in before your summer journey. I spent the summer reading many different spiritual books and seeking the big question about why we are here. I mixed in some books on evolution to seek to understand our biological/pyschological make-up about why we believe in G-d. I love that we are seekers, for it implies the journey we are on during our lives and potentially aftewards.

Looking forward to continuing to seek...

New Year, New Question

We have entered the New Year 5771. In what ways have the Jewish High Holy Days (Rosh Hashana and/or Yom Kippur) been spiritual for you?

Endless Summer ??

As our summer comes to a close, although recent temps don't seem to dictate that fact, I find myself reflecting on the past few months from a spiritual point of view. As my kids and I traveled the world, together and separately, I worked hard at staying present and in the moment, enjoying the abundance that the universe was constantly providing for me. I used what ever down time I had to read anything I could get my hands on regarding spirituality. My summer reading list consisted of; The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz - The Fifth Agreement, Don Miguel & Don Jose Ruiz - The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion - The Untethered Soul, Michael Singer - A New Earth, Ekhart Tolle, The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff & Raising Cain, Dan Kindlon & Michael Thompson - listening to Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, Dr. Wayne W. Dyer

On July 31st I traveled to Mammoth Lakes with my children. This was our first trip to Mammoth since my wife Erica died in a snowboarding accident there in February. Needless to say, the weeks leading up to the trip were met with some anxiety on my part. On the Friday before we drove up, something was pulling at me all day, telling me I should attend shabbat services that night at Or Ami. I don't why there was any resistance in me but it took a little convincing from a friend I was with that day and it was decided we would attend that evening. As we celebrated shabbat and listened to Julia Weisz's sermon I was amazed by the Torah portion that I had seemingly stumbled into ( Ekev5770). The story was of Moses leading the Jews to Israel and reminding them of the hardships and pain they had suffered prior to leading them into the promised land. Julia's words about the the need to visit the root and most difficult part of our grief prior to healing were so incredibly poignant. The power of her sermon and the warmth of the Or Ami community gave me the strength to make that journey, which I knew would help us tremendously on our path of healing.

On Saturday afternoon, July 31st, Megan, Tyler, our dogs Boo & Mr. Butters, and I hiked up to the very spot where Erica took her last breath. We sat, we meditated, we cried and we healed. As we sat on the hill side we took in the vast and incredible view up the valley in front of us, out to Mono Lake and up to the crest of Mammoth Mountain to our right. The sun shone softly on our backs, filtered by the trees behind us and directly on to the flowers we had placed in Erica’s honor. It was a beautiful moment and we could feel Erica’s presence immeasurably. We spent the rest of the weekend hiking and celebrating life with friends, basking in the light that surrounded us.

Two weeks ago I traveled to a small town outside of Mexico City next to the Teotihuacan Pyramids site. A friend and I spent four days living with Don Miguel Ruiz and his son Don Jose along with about 20 other spiritual seekers of all ages, races, and from geographical locations around the globe. We learned about and explored the spiritual philosophy of the ancient Toltec culture and the significance that the pyramid site played in their spiritual practices. It was an enlightening journey and I highly recommend checking out their books, The Four Agreements and/or The Fifth Agreement. The Fifth Agreement actually covers the first four.

All I can say is that after a summer of reading, traveling, and reflecting I have made the irrevocable decision that I choose to be happy, I choose not to be a victim, I choose not to judge myself or others, and not to concern myself with the judgments others may have of me. I have chosen love and light over despair and darkness. I have chosen spirituality what ever that may be and wherever that may lead.

The summer maybe coming to an end but the search for spiritual fulfillment never will.