Friday, November 1, 2019.  Wednesday morning we met in the dark, amid falling leaves, and welcomed the new month of Cheshvan. What a whirlwind holiday season it’s been – almost a month of special dinners, extra days at synagogue, building and enjoying and taking down the Sukkah – and working hard to see the truth of our own flawed inner selves. It is a blessing to enter Cheshvan, the quiet month when we settle into the year, and consolidate all the change and intensity of the past few weeks.  Called Mar-Cheshvan in ancient times, or “bitter Cheshvan”, due to its lack of holidays, it is nevertheless a welcome time to return to the routine of daily life, and try to live it better this time around.

In the ancient middle east, Cheshvan was planting time:  wheat, barley, oats, and vetch were all sown in this month.  Harvest was done, with only a few olives left for gathering.  Just as we planted new seeds in this season, so in Cheshvan we are planting new seeds of thought and action in our lives.  Our source Mindy Ribner notes that Cheshvan is a time “of review, reflection, and integration.  As we begin to translate into reality the visions we received in Tishrei, we need to let go of the old, of what is not essential, and purify ourselves so that we are really able to contain the new.”

How might we go about doing this?  Ms. Ribner has some ideas:  Engage in self-inquiry, especially about negative thoughts that might defeat our resolve to change long-held patterns. Own our own projections onto other people (otherwise known as blame) of difficulties that might arise.  Try to develop greater trust and faith, in ourselves and our own ability to effect the change we want, and in others.  And in so doing, love ourselves unconditionally.

In our reflections we talked a bit about slowing down, letting go, as we begin to live our commitments for the year. One of our participants offered a lovely quote from Ajahn Chah, Thai Forest Buddhist monk: “If you let go a little you a will have a little peace; if you let go a lot you will have a lot of peace; if you let go completely you will have complete peace.”[1]

And so we enter a new year… may it be a good one for each one of us, and may we all accomplish the change, and enjoy the peace, that we desire. –Kirby

The next walking meditation will be Rosh Chodesh Kislev, Friday, November 29, 2019, 7:30 am. Contact us for location information. Rain or snow or shine!

 

 

 

[1] Ajahn Chah, Food for the Heart: The Collected Teachings of Ajahn Chah, Wisdom Publications, 2002.

 

Monday, September 30, 2019.  Today, we celebrate not only the Birthday of the World and the beginning of a new Lunar Jewish year, but the 12^th anniversary of the start of Rosh Chodesh Cleveland.  We are glad to continue our tradition yet another year, in the company of friends, the trees, the lakes, and the birds.

While it is still mild and warm in the Great Lakes, our minds are turning to fall.  Summer’s greens are darkening and yellowing, a few early leaves are falling, and the cicadas are humming.  In the Middle East of course, in ancient times as now, it’s still hot, and yet, it is the time of ripe fruits – grapes, figs, pomegranates, and olives – while the time of rain is beginning, soon to cool the soil and ready it for planting.  In two weeks, at the full moon, we will celebrate with gratitude the season’s harvest in our sukkahs, with cedar boughs over our heads.  (and in the Midwest, corn stalks!)

For now though, we focus on the work of the coming week, the ten days of introspection between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  This morning we blew the shofar, the ancient ram’s horn, and woke ourselves to a New Year, and to the truths of our faults, our frailty, our futile (it seems) attempts to be better people than the year before.  Judaism, however, makes the radical statement that change is not only inevitable – we are partners in it.  We are all innately holy, and so we can change ourselves, with intention, and with daily attention to removing the obstacles that might obscure our holiness[1].  And so the annual cycle of transformation begins – what is required is that we face our true selves, envision a changed future, and make a daily plan for getting there.

Some of us may be entering the holidays deeply feeling the pull of the divine, ready for transformation; others may wonder if it will ever come; yet others may be so caught up in a continuing whirlwind of change that the spiritual seems far away.  Whatever our situation or frame of mind, the trees, lakes, and birds remind us that we are holy in our essence, held in the arms of the divine world, beneath the shelter of its wings, among our friends and our families.  L’Shanah Tovah, a good, sweet and wonderful year! — Kirby

[1] Alan Morinis, Every Day, Holy Day. Boston and London: Trumpeter, 2010.

The next Rosh Chodesh Walking Meditation will be Wednesday, October 30, 2019, 7:30 am.  Contact us for location.  

Sunday, September 1, 2019.  It was a rainy morning at the Nature Center – wet and green.  What a contrast with the hot, dry weather in the middle east, now and in ancient times!

As we greet the New Moon of the month of Elul, we begin the preparation for the coming High Holy Days. Elul is a month of introspection, of review of our Selves and our behavior, of seeking forgiveness, of making things right, of anticipation.  Our source Alan Lew notes that the seventh month, which held the High Holy Days, was a time of heightened anxiety in the ancient Middle East. Unlike nearby civilizations, which had the bounty of ever-returning rivers to rely on – Egypt on the Nile, and Mesopotamia on the Tigris and Euphrates – Israel was wholly dependent on rain. By the sixth and seventh months, fields and pastures were parched, and the winter rains had not yet begun.  How vulnerable farmers and shepherds alike must have felt, wondering if the rain would come again, and whether it would be robust enough to sustain the coming year’s life.  Lew speculates that it might just have been this vulnerability that turned Israel to intense awareness of one G-d, pleading with one great Power on behalf of life itself.

It makes sense that this time of anxiety, of pleading with G-d, would have become over time the season for improving ourselves, and our relationships within our families and community. On a deep level, we hope that this work will bring a positive response — harmony in our world, and sustenance for the coming year. Elul is traditionally the month of forgiveness: asking forgiveness of those we have hurt, and granting forgiveness to those who have hurt us.  In giving and receiving forgiveness, we restore trust and harmony to our relationships.  And yet, how fraught with anxiety is the task.  Our vulnerability is exposed.  We might just call on the universe for support. And the only way forward is to plunge in, not knowing the outcome.

Entering the month of Elul, may we recognize our vulnerability — and charge forward anyway, relying on the deep benevolence of the universe, and of each other.  May Elul be a fruitful month of reflection and awakening. Chodesh Tov, a good month! — Kirby

Next month’s walking meditation will be Rosh Hashanah morning, Monday, September 30, 7:30 am.  Contact us for location.  Join us to welcome the month of Tishrei, and celebrate the birthday of the world!

Hello friends, just a reminder that Rosh Chodesh Elul will be this Sunday, September 1, 7:30 am, at a new location.  Contact us for meeting place.  It’s a great way to start preparation for the High Holy Days!  Rain or shine, see you there!

Friday, August 2. A small group met this quiet morning out at the lake, which is more a mudflat now, due to construction.  When we planned to meet one last time at Horseshoe Lake, we knew it was the beginning of a transition to a better future for this small piece of the Great Lakes biosphere.  It also parallels the destruction of the temple, in preparation for the restoration that is available to us during the coming High Holy Days, not too far off.

Our source Mindy Ribner writes, ‘The month of Av is about tears of loss and tears of joy’.  On Tisha b’Av, the 9^th day of Av, we mourn the loss of the 1st Temple in 586 BCE, and the 2nd Temple in 70 CE. There are many tragic events that befell the Jews on that date in other years.

There is a crying that comes from deep within our soul. We need to remember that when we feel broken and vulnerable, those are the times that we are most open to healing.  By feeling our brokenness we can begin to heal and become more whole.  Spiritual crying is an important practice. When we cry for G-d we can be healed and heal ourselves. The Talmud tells us there is nothing more complete than a broken heart.

This is a month of the greatest heat – even our emotional and spiritual lives are ‘heated up’  its and intense time and we have to be careful not to be too reactive. At the same time, Tu b’Av, the 15^th of Av, is the Jewish Valentine’s day – the joyous moment in Av when couples meet, dance and marry.  In all we must listen deeply and be especially careful with our speech.

Today and throughout this month, it can help us to remember as we walk and meditate, that  we need to take deep breaths and center ourselves. Observe where we are right now. Note the sensations and tensions in any part of our bodies. Then use our breath to relax our bodies. We listen, and we cry from within, tears of joy and tears of sadness.

Beginning next month, we will meet at a new location to allow Horseshoe Lake its time of restoration.  There are places there to walk among the trees and streams, and along the marsh.  May we all be aware of the destruction and tears that must precede reconstruction.  Chodesh Tov!

—- Linda and Stephen

Thursday, July 4, 2019. As you can tell from the photos, construction has begun.  It is a strange scene at the lake, which has been drained and is now a mudflat, the 150-year-old dam finally under restoration.  It is a time of transition – with hope of a fully restored dam, lake and landscape in a year or two.

Every year at this time we are reminded of the intense heat and light of summer in the Middle East, and desert regions around the world.  As our source Mindy Ribner notes, summer is not a time of carefree play and delight, in places where the Sun is oppressive:  it is heavy and serious, and we just want to run from it. On the 17^th of Tammuz, in ancient times, the walls of Jerusalem were breached, and the three weeks of mourning and catastrophe began, leading to the city’s fall on the 9^th of Av.

So the mood of the month:  its area of healing and energy are sight, and seeing the truth clearly.  The world is illuminated exactly as it is, under the bright light and heat of the sun. We are cautioned to be aware of the emotional, physical and spiritual weight of the month, anticipating our propensity for anger, and containing it so as not to do any lasting damage. This morning we noted that anger can grow out of indignation, or it can grow out of fear.  Both must be faced head-on and transformed into awareness of what reality is, and not what we wish it would be.

Given the illuminated truths of the last few weeks, where innocents are subjected to horrific conditions, even in our own supposedly enlightened country, we are seeing the world as it is.  Angry is exactly what we should be.  And our anger should be overflowing.  This is not a time to mourn a past catastrophe – we are right in the middle of a present one.  May each one of us be strengthened in harnessing our physical, emotional and spiritual anger, directing it in powerful ways to shine a bright light on the truth, to change the situation, now — and stop the world from falling. — Kirby

The next Rosh Chodesh walking meditation will be Friday, August 2, 7:30 am.  Due to dam construction, we will meet in an alternate location.  Contact us for meeting place.

 

Hello friends,

As of today, we understand that the dam at Horseshoe Lake is now closed.  This means that we can’t walk in a loop around the lake.  Contact us for our new meeting place. We will see you at 7:30 am on July 4 for Rosh Chodesh Tammuz!

 

Tuesday June 4, 2019.  It was a balmy, beautiful morning on the lake, trees and plants in full leaf, and birds singing. Our local redwinged blackbird, in his usual place on the shrub at the dam, made his noisy contribution.  We acknowledged all the sounds and smells of summer, and Sivan’s sense of happiness and bloomingness.  In biblical Israel, this was a time of harvest, also bringing to mind the joy of abundance.

Today is the 45^th day of the counting of the Omer.  According to our tradition, we are almost done counting the days of our journey from the barley harvest at Passover, to the wheat harvest at Shavuot, coming up this Saturday.  This parallels the journey from Passover’s exodus and crossing of the Red Sea, to arrival at the foot of Mount Sinai at Shavuot.  There we receive the Torah, reliving the cycle of the journey from freedom to revelation once again.

Our source Mindy Ribner notes that Sivan’s energy is receiving, and its area of healing is the deep subconscious.  As we journey toward Sinai, we travel deeper and deeper into our relationships with each other, our connection to the world, and our connection to G-d. She draws the close connection between receiving revelation, and creativity.  In order to create, we draw inspiration and energy from revelation and our deepest connections in the world. Similarly, the trees and greenery around us pull their energy from their deepening roots, and burst forth in flower and leaf. Sivan is a good month to recognize and deepen our creative work, whether it is in relationships, art, music, writing, or the daily work we are passionate about.  Maybe start something new! – Enjoy, Chodesh tov! –Kirby

The next Rosh Chodesh walking meditation will be on the first of Tammuz, Thursday July 4, 7:30 am, at the dam at Horseshoe Lake.

 

 

 

Sunday, May 5, 2019.  On Horseshoe Lake, Iyyar is the month of spring greening, leaves and flowers unfolding.  In ancient Israel, millet and vegetables are sown, but the big news is the beginning of harvest:  barley, wheat, oats, peas and lentils.  The first sheaf of barley has been offered in thanksgiving, and now we are counting the Omer, the days until the wheat harvest, and the receiving of the Torah at Shavuot. At the time of the Exodus, our ancestors were two weeks into their travels in the wilderness, headed for Mount Sinai.

After the past month, where we seemed to be reminded daily of the divisiveness of the human world, and its propensity for violence, we read blogs and responses resonating with a call for solidarity.  We are in this together, Jews, Muslims, Christians, of all races and nations.  We are called to be uniquely who we are, in public, in defiance of all that would send us underground. We meet at Horseshoe Lake to continue to follow the rhythm of the seasons, and our connection to the larger universe. We are still walking toward Sinai, and will let nothing disable us.

Today is the fifteenth day of the Omer — beginning the third week of the mystical 7-week Kabbalistic path of refinement in preparing to receive the Torah.  This third week is assigned the quality of “Tiferet” ,תפארת, translated as glory, beauty, harmony and compassion.  Think about it:  How can all of these qualities be implied in one word?

This question brings to mind the poetry and songs of Native Americans, who use the word “beauty” as an English translation of a word that seems, from context, to come close to what we might mean by “Tiferet”.  If we walk as free people, in awareness and respect of the beauty and harmony around us, caring for the world and all people and creatures within it, we might approach the idea.  Our source Rabbi Simon Jacobson notes that Tiferet “blends the differing colors of love and discipline, and this harmony makes it beautiful.”  I think of a favorite poem by Native American Muscogee writer Joy Harjo:

Eagle Poem

To pray you open your whole self

To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon

To one whole voice that is you.

And know there is more

That you can’t see, can’t hear,

Can’t know except in moments

Steadily growing, and in languages

That aren’t always sound but other

Circles of motion.

Like eagle that Sunday morning

Over Salt River.  Circled in blue sky

In wind, swept our hearts clean

With sacred wings.

We see you, see ourselves and know

That we must take the utmost care

And kindness in all things.

Breathe in, knowing we are made of

All this, and breathe, knowing

We are truly blessed because we

Were born, and die soon within a

True circle of motion,

Like eagle rounding out the morning

Inside us.

We pray that it will be done

In beauty,

In beauty.[1]

——————————————-

This month, may we walk upright in harmony and compassion, together with all the others who are on their own unique paths – and share this earth with us.

In Tiferet, in Tiferet.

בתפארת, בתפארת

—Kirby

 

[1] Joy Harjo, in Brian Swann, ed, 1996.  Native American Songs and Poems. Mineola NY: Dover Publications.

 

Saturday, April 6, 2019.  We celebrated Rosh Chodesh in two places this month, on the shores of Lake Erie at Geneva-on-the-Lake, at Kol HaLev’s Shabbaton – and once again at Horseshoe Lake, with many thanks to Luisa of Shaarey Tikvah for holding the space in our absence.  After 11 years we have not missed a month, and she made it possible to keep up the tradition. And provided us with two beautiful photos!

Nisan is of course a time of newness and rebirth, with the coming of Passover and the long-awaited return of spring to the Great Lakes. Somehow this winter has seemed longer than many, and we are grateful for every tree bud, crocus and daffodil, and perennial blade appearing.  Out at Lake Erie, we talked about Judaism as a nature religion, an indigenous religion, grounding us not just in ethics and knowledge of how we should live, but in the cycles of moon, agriculture, plants and seasons.

Funny how cycles work – we walk around and around our home lake, or back and forth along Erie’s rocky edge, always retracing the same steps – and yet every loop is different, in time, space and circumstances. The moon renews itself – as we change in self, age and in relationships, and have the freeing opportunity, year after year, to begin anew.  In ten days, once again we will join together at the seder table and recite the same words and stories, sing the same songs. May we all find newness in remembering and renewing our exodus from a constricted place, and journey into freedom. — Kirby