Longing

I'm in a serious longing state right now... longing for community, for home, for partnership, for true friendship, for peace/wholeness, for connection, for looking into eyes that I say "I know you", for nature's embrace... many things which seem just out of my grasp at the moment.

I feel it's important to find a balance between recognizing the longing- living in it, loving/embracing it, and then working to make it come together. Ebb and flow... perhaps it's all one and the same. Different sides of the same coin. Different views of the same glorious mountain. Without all the views, all the perspectives, we wouldn't have a whole.

But how do I settle in the balance?


Desert Rainbow, all part of the oneness:

Remembering

I've noticed that a lot of my fellow bloggers have already written about it, but I'm adding in my experience. Today was Yom Hashoah- Holocaust Remembrance Day. For all my struggles to find a Jewish community, feel comfortable and at home within Judaism, I have never had trouble connecting to stories of the Holocaust. Reading both Anne's diary and Number the Stars in 6th grade deeply affected my life and when I visited the Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam 7 years ago, I cried pretty much from the moment I walked in until I left.

I often take issue with how the Holocaust seems to be a crutch for many Jews- the penultimate victim narrative that we just can't seem to move beyond. And what I see as an excuse for Israel to do things I do not agree with. But to be here for Yom Hashoah was a moving experience. At 10 am, sirens were sounded, and for a few minutes, everyone just stopped. I looked out a window at Pardes onto a busy street and I all I could think of was that Improv Everywhere stunt where a group of people suddenly freeze in the middle of Grand Central Station. It was surreal- things started to get quiet just before the siren started, then, suddenly, the wail of the siren began and people froze on the sidewalks, cars pulled to the side of the road, taxi drivers opened their car doors, got out and stood still. It was eerie, as time stopped in remembrance for a few moments.

Then just as soon as it had come to a halt, life picked right back up again. People slung their backpacks over their shoulders, hopped on their bikes, and continued on their way. Cars continued on the road, everyone went about their business.

Of all the communities devastated by World War II, Jews are the only one who have not yet recovered their population. We were 18 million prior to the Holocaust, and today we are 13 million.

I heard a survivor speak today. Soon there won't be any left. I will remember, and I will tell stories.

What is culture?

What makes us different? Why are those differences important? Why is it important to maintain cultural heritage/traditions/rituals? Specifically I'm thinking about Judaism, but I think these questions could be applied to anything. Judaism has existed for a long time. Why is it important that it keep existing? (There is the whole argument that Torah is truth, which is a huge huge one, and I don't mean to discredit it, but for the purposes of this line of thought, I'm putting it aside for now.)

Should Judaism be maintained just because it's been around for 3,000+ years? There are other things in this world that have been done for a long time that I don't think should continue. What does it mean for something to have cultural value? How does culture enrich our lives? 4 years ago in France I participated in an intercultural training for young adults from over 10 countries. As others shared their customs and cultural stories, I found little in "American" culture that was meaningful in my life. So my default for speaking about my traditions/heritage/etc. was Judaism. That's where I felt I had something meaningful to add to the conversation, to share in an exchange. Ok, so there's value, so these practices do enrich our lives. But what does that mean for how we treat other people?

It seems we need to belong to something in order to live comfortably in this world. We search for a town, an ethnicity, a club, a religion, a school, a family, a cause, an organization that we can feel an affiliation with. These communities form our identities, we feel lost without them. Yet, continually, over and over, throughout history and everywhere today, these affiliations perpetuate judgment through an us/them mentality. "I'm a democrat and if you don't agree with me, you're wrong." We belong to something to be able to say the other side is less than us.
What is a world without affiliations? Is it a meaningless colorless world? How do we get to a place where we are all looking out for the other? Where we don't shove aside someone in trying to get to a holy site? Where we don't make half-joking-but-still-cruel comments about members of our own community behind their backs or even to their faces? How do we get beyond our insecurities?

I have some ideas, but I'm really curious to hear what you think.