The three week period of mourning continues as we commemorate the suffering of the Jewish people. Whether it was crusades, expulsions, pogroms, exterminations, or acts of terror, the root cause of these atrocities was and is hatred and prejudice based on a difference of opinion.  Of course human beings have a tendency to not see ideas and beliefs as opinion, they see them as dogma worth killing for.  As tragic as war is, it is often perpetrated with a particular goal in mind—a strategic purpose such as power and possession. The Jewish people have known so much suffering when the only reason for persecution was a difference of opinion, a difference in who we are and not what we possess or can offer.

This is why I feel such an affinity and deep sorrow for those murdered in Norway this past week;  a tragic and vivid example of suffering due to a difference of opinion. This is a suffering we know so well and which we commemorate this week—and now join with it the loss of life in Norway to our own history of suffering. The stories and photos that came to us about the harrowing experience of (mostly) young adults at a camp retreat looking eye to eye or hearing the breathing of the murderer who showed no compassion.

There may be ideas or beliefs worth dying for but there are none that I can imagine worth murdering for.  That is why I feel I must mention a matter in the Torah that has long bothered me.  We read in synagogues across the globe this past week the story of Moses and the Israelites taking vengeance upon the Midianites—it is a story of the genocide of a people.  Much ink has been spilled by Torah scholars, among them Kabbalists, to explain the rationale for this particular command and its execution. My response is to ask for forgiveness from the people of Midian.  It is a reckoning that is long overdue.

Yesterday was the start of a Jewish period of mourning that lasts for 3 weeks—it starts with a fast (the Fast of Tammuz 17) and ends with a fast (the Fast of Av 9).  I went to the funeral of Michael Nowak, husband of our student Nancy to be with her and to honor Michael. I left with great inspiration. There is a famous quote from the book of Kohelet-Ecclesiastes: “Better is it for one to attend the house of mourning than to attend a festivity—for this is our common end.”  Is this the musings of a melancholic preacher or sound advice for the soul?

I don’t believe King Solomon (the author of Kohelet) was moribund in his approach to life—though Kohelet is filled with fatalistic philosophy. Funerals, as was Michel Nowak’s, are often the one time in a person’s life that they hear from those who knew them best how much they meant to them—how celebrated a life they lead in the eyes of others. Read the rest of this entry

I got angry this week more than usual—that is both a result of lack of sleep and allowing frustration to build without dealing with it straight on. Being “tired of” and “tired from” led me to say things I regret and acting as less than a calm and positive person. Where I found my high ground from the flood of impatience was in silence. Margaret Johnson started her Practice of Presence class—which she is so generously offering as a gift to Kabbalah Experience—at lunchtime this past Tuesday. I joined as a participant among my fellow learners to deepen my capacity to come back to breath, calmness of mind, to find my higher ground.

This past week the weather pattern has included an almost daily downpour in the afternoon or evening. The first of these occurred last Thursday at rush hour. I too was finishing my work day and saw a group of people readying, yet hesitating to exit our office building. The rain was coming down in torrents and there was no indication when it would let up. Fortunately, I only have a short distance to travel between my therapy office and home. So, I, in concert with many others made the soaking dash to our cars and cautiously headed out. Read the rest of this entry

Rabbis from the Rocky Mountain Rabbinical Council participated in the first Kabbalah Intensive for Rabbi’s course offered by Kabbalah Experience. Over the 4 weeks, 12 Rabbis learned with Dr. David Sanders, Executive Director of Kabbalah Experience.  The Kabbalah Intensive allowed the Rabbis to see the connections between the spiritual teachings of Kabbalah and traditional Jewish thought.

Rabbi Elliott Baskin said, “One of the nice things about your approach is that not only is it academic, it is also very personal. Integrating Kabbalah and psychological insights adds a whole different dimension.” Rabbis stated that it was a good introduction to a topic of Jewish learning that they were not previously exposed to and expressed an interest in continuing to study Kabbalah this coming year.

Kabbalah Experience is located at the Goldberger Center on the Hebrew Educational Alliance Campus. It is an open and inclusive learning community committed to encouraging individual spiritual growth through the study and application of Kabbalah’s insights into the parallels between physical and spiritual reality.

For more information or to learn more please contact Kabbalah Experience at 303.758.8996 or visit them online at www.kabbalahexperience.com.

Relationships have been said to begin with a metaphor — the desire to invent a narrative that weaves your lives together in a way that you can read as destiny.

I came across this quote in an article on twiblings but it struck me as applicable in another way—the relationship we weave between body and soul.

I did something quite unusual for me this week—twice! I took care of myself. I don’t mean that I didn’t let someone else take care of me. In both instances I decided that my body needed some care and I would make my body a priority over the needs of others (and my own need to be there for others).

Although this is a small personal triumph, I write about it because I just finished reading (yet) another book on the secret of Kabbalah—the secret is “giving”.  The arguments for giving are undeniably very spiritual sounding—giving is the antidote to egoic selfishness.

A new narrative that I am suggesting we explore—and then weave together is our relationship with our body.  Our body’s signals call us to pay attention to how much we are giving and how much we are receiving.  A body out of balance reflects the weariness of what it is carrying, in my case the weariness of body shows up in my neck and hip.

So let us be wary of being weary—by wearing out our welcome of a relationship gone awry with our body—a narrative that speaks too much of altruism and giving to others without enough story of how we care for ourselves. Here is then a secret of Kabbalah (and life)—find the right balance.