Shavuot 2010 -- The Way it Was....

On Erev Shavuot, our host walked in the door with a list of the shiurim (study sessions) that were being offered by his shul (synagogue):  a series of lectures about the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Dead Sea Sects, from the Second Temple period.

Earlier that day, Moshe told me he did not plan on staying up all night learning this year.  I planned to study all night at Pardes, like I did last year. 

As soon as I heard the topic, I knew Moshe would want to go that shul and learn there all night!  This stuff is like candy for him, like someone opened the door to the candy shop and said, "go in and take whatever you want."  I also knew he would want me to go with him (if you could have as much candy as you wanted, wouldn't you want to share it?).  Of course, I joined him.

The topic of the third shiur interested me the most, but by that time, the hour and the Hebrew were starting to get to me.  I finally succumbed and left the room to sleep for "a few minutes."  I returned... an hour later, just as the fourth, and final, shiur was ending. 

I was so tired. 

I began to wonder if it really made sense for me to walk to the Old City.

I was not even going to daven (pray) there, because I would be davening later, at the Bar Mitzvah of my friend's son. Moreover, I worried that even if I did manage to walk to and from the Old City, I would crash when I got back, and be compelled to sleep.  I did not want to miss the Bar Mitzvah.

I also did not want to disappoint my kids. 

My eldest had already announced that she planned on learning with her friends and walking with them, so I did not have to worry about her.  But I did promise my other two kids....

God had already arranged a solution....

Our host planned to walk to the Kotel with his sons; he was happy to take our son with him and our son was happy to join him. My youngest preferred to sleep in this year.  So I was "off the hook."

I chose to use my brain instead of my feet this year.

For the first time, since I moved to Israel, I did not walk to the Kotel on Shavuot morning. Instead, I decided to sleep for a few hours, so that I would be awake and alert at my friend's Bar Mitzvah. 

Please God, I will walk to the Old City again, next year.

This year, I needed to be with my friend and celebrate with her.  I know she appreciated it!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Shabbat Shiur

One of the really special things about my neighborhood is the warmth and openness of the residents.

Nowhere is this more evident than at the weekly shiurim (Torah study sessions) for women on Shabbat.

Each week, a different woman from the community prepares a shiur (session). The women come from diverse backgrounds and each shiur gives us an opportunity not just to learn Torah, but also to get to know the women who live in our community.

Every week, around 30 women (sometimes more) gather together to hear the shiur. Often, there is group participation and sometimes the discussion continues even after the shiur has ended.

Despite all our differences, everyone is respectful of each other. There are women who possess tremendous knowledge of Torah and women whose knowlege is based mostly on folklore. There are women who are academics and women who are "dosim" (from a frum (religious) background, in which secular education is devalued). There are women who are young and old, religious and not so religious, intellectual and spiritual, conservative and liberal, right wing and left wing. There are women from every angle of the dati-leumi (religious Zionist) spectrum, and those who are from completely different worlds. Everyone is welcome.

And yet, no one berates anyone else's background, even when they disagree with their opinion. And no one skips a shiur because the person giving the shiur is "not her style."

I LOVE attending these shiurim.

When I moved to Homat Shmuel (a.k.a. Har Homa), I realized that going to this shiur would be the only way for me to really meet women in our community. My kids were too old for me to "hang out with the moms" in the park or to meet moms in the local school. (My kids were too old to enroll in the local school, with the exception of my youngest. However, it did not make sense to enroll her in a different school from her brother and sister, which would result in my having to pick up kids at the same time from two very distant locations!)

So, from the beginning (when we moved in), I regularly attended the shiur. Then, with all the surgeries (two years; three surgeries), my attendance dropped. Still, I went whenever I felt I could.

All that ended two years ago, when I started chemo. I just stopped going. I am too tired. I have to sleep on Shabbat. In fact, I have to sleep A LOT.

The result is that I feel rather disconnected. Whenever I meet women from the shiur, they ask why I do not come anymore. Often, they include a compliment about missing my input (I often comment or ask questions). Typically, I just smile, say how much I miss the shiur, and explain that I am usually resting during that hour.

More than that, I feel like I have not really integrated in the neighborhood as much as I would have expected.

Don't get me wrong. It is not like I am isolated. I know a lot of people here and have several good friends; but I had expected to be much more involved, both in our shul (synagogue) and in the community at large (such as participating in local municipal committees, which I did even before the neighborhood was built!). I just cannot commit to being active on a committee when I can barely keep things together in my own home (and barely is an understatement!).

I also had visions of organizing women for some sort of women's tefillah group, like Shirat Sara (my women's tefillah group in Talpiot). The closest I have come to that dream is hosting a women's megillah reading on Purim.

Recently, a friend told me about another women in the neighborhood who is also very into Jewish religious feminism. I actually met her in shul once, and had a very interesting conversation with her (it turns out that she was running the hadracha (informal education) department at Melitz when I was working there, oh, so many years ago....).

Anyway, when I saw that this woman was delivering the shiur this past Shabbat, I decided that I would make every effort to attend.

I almost missed it.

I forgot to ask Moshe to wake me in time.

Lucky for me, Moshe finished learning with our son "just in time" and woke me as he was getting ready for his Shabbat nap. It was five in the afternoon, just the time that the shiur begins.

I was about to roll over and go back to sleep when Moshe asked "Didn't you just say that you want to go to the shiur?"

That was all the "push" I needed. I forced myself out of bed, quickly got dressed, and walked as fast as I could to the shiur.

It was worth it.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Some Days are Like That....

We are smack in the middle of end-of-the-year-celebrations!

I did not get a chance to post about yesterday's phenomenal program -- starting with the tour led by the 6th graders, and ending with performances by the 1st through 5th grade classes.

I am too tired to post about today's program -- starting with music, dance, and theatrical performances, followed by a combination of touring and project presentations, by my daughter's 8th grade. We left before the program was over to go to....

My two daughters' gymnastics presentation.... which I am also not going to post about now.

In short, I have had two LONG days and I am EXHAUSTED!

I should have gone to sleep as soon as I got home.

Instead, I had a fight with my son (because he acted in an age-appropriate way -- i.e. like a kid -- and I did handle the situation properly)

Then I ran away. (in a manner of speaking)

I really wanted to go to this month's laughter workshop. I really needed to laugh. And my youngest daughter was eager to come with me! (How special is that?!) But the workshop was across town and I was too tired to drive.

So I went to our monthly English Rosh Hodesh Shiur (class). The shiurim (classes) are always interesting and it is really nice to hang out with other English speakers.

I was running late, and got confused. I went into the building, but I could not find the apartment for the shiur. I walked up and down the stairs, and finally gave up.

Then, I looked at the piece of paper in my hand and realized I was in the wrong building!

I walked up the hill, to the right building. When I entered, the speader expressed her frustration about people arriving late and interupting the flow of the shiur. I almost burst out crying.

I sat there, barely listening, just trying to compose myself.

I did not want to interupt again by leaving, and I did not want to call attention to myself by crying.

I know the woman who gave the shiur, and she has always been so nice to me. I knew there must have been something else going on (apparently there had been many interuptions before I arrived). I struggled to focus on the shiur, and listen to the insightful things she had to say. After the shiur was over, I apologized for the interuption. But then I made the mistake of mentioning that I almost broke down in tears.

I really should have just stayed home and gone to bed.

Did I mention that my daughter, Y, thanked me for coming with her today and told me she had a really nice time?


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

First Night, First Light

I love my Sunday morning shiur! (Jewish Studies class)

Only one problem -- I haven't gone in about two years!

I was determined to start attending regularly, as soon as this school year started. But.... well.... now that Sundays and Mondays are my only "functioning" days, it's especially difficult to “give up” one of my mornings.

Still, I feel much better when I am learning (Torah) on a regular basis.

Not to mention that I love the shiur. And I love the woman who gives the shiur (brilliant, learned, dynamic, charistmatic -- you name it, she's got it! And she's a "feminist" and "right wing" -- and how many of those are there!?)

In short, I am rather in awe of this woman.

Anyway, we were privileged to attend the very special wedding of her youngest son this evening, the first night of Hanukah.

When we arrived, I was surprised to meet several friends from Ginot Shomron, which, it turns out, is the kallah’s (bride's) home town. Cool.

Ginot Shomron is a large yishuv (town) in the Shomron, near Petach Tikvah. One of the beautiful neighborhoods in the yishuv, Neve Aliza, is quite reminiscent of our home town: Teaneck, NJ. Beautiful houses, front lawns and back yards, and quiet, tree lined streets, where kids can play (without fear of being run over).

After expressions of mutual surprise and pleasure at meeting, one friend after the other protested: "You haven’t posted in a week! I check every day and there has been nothing new since you wrote about Hareisha!"

Wow!!

How nice to know!

So now, as was pointed out to me, I absolutely had to post before going to bed.

So, dear friends, I want to wish you all a Hanukah Sameach! (Happy Chanukah)

May the light from our candles shine forth and brighten this world.


Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA