“And write these on the doorposts of your house and your gates.” The basis of placing a Mezuzah on exit and entryways is to affix the central teaching of Judaism (the Shema prayer) wherever and whenever we come and go. Our movements can be conscious or unconscious—purposeful or unintended.   When we come from the public domain into the private domain, or exit from the private domain to the public we pause at the Mezuzah (the tradition is to “kiss” the Mezuzah—connecting the prayer to ourselves) a pause that informs us to reflect on where we are coming from and where we are going. Each night we say the Shema prayer as we exit the public domain and enter the private domain of our dream states. We also say the Shema prayer in the morning as we prepare to exit our private domain and enter into the public domain.

I suggested a while ago that to become more conscious of our exiting and entering that we take note of how we close the front door as we enter and exit our building.  Without a conscious pause we enter and exit routinely—and the door closes on its own with a loud noise. There is now a sign on both sides of the door—a reminder to enter and exit consciously.  I would further suggest a practice of saying these words aloud as a meditation—“enter consciously” and “exit consciously” when you come into and leave our building.

As we have taught in class, the Mezuzah is placed diagonally on the doorpost (from left to right) which parallels the diagonal of the Hebrew letter Alef.  By picturing the Alef as we pass through doors and gates we are reminded of our intention to connect and make whole our lives (Alef = One, uniting what is above and below, inside and outside and private and public).

Each day we open and close so many actual doors.  Then there are the many gates and doors we choose to avoid—in the worlds of our emotions and spirit. Tina Collen is speaking for us tomorrow night—our second speaker in this year’s Kabbalah Live series.  Her story and  aha moments she will share with us help reveal the doors and gates that cause us pause as we summon the courage to enter and exit.

I asked one of our second year students, Gretchen Koplin, if she would be so kind and share a story with all of you—it is a story of synchronicity about thanks, giving and the harvesting of stem cells.

Best wishes for a special time of thanks for family, friends and the fellowship of our community.

David

Gretchen’s story:

A little over two years ago, I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), and my recommended treatment regimen included a bone marrow/stem cell transplant.  I was lucky enough to have four viable donors, including two who were a 10 out of 10 match for me.  Going into the transplant process, the only thing that I knew about my donor was that he was a 42-year-old male who lived outside of the U.S.  Given that the cells must be infused into the recipient within 72 hours of being harvested from the donor, this meant that my transplant process needed to be a feat of coordination involving on-time international flights and a courier with my new cells in an Igloo cooler. Read the rest of this entry

First a request: Someone mentioned to me a while back that they either knew the author Jonathan Safran Foer, they were related to him or knew his relatives in Denver?  Please let me know if you are the one who mentioned the connection.

In last week’s Torah portion Abraham and Sarah are informed that they will have a child—at their advanced ages of 100 and 90 respectively.  Upon hearing the news Sarah laughs so hard that the Torah makes note, “She laughed in her innards.”  I had always thought that the non-literal translation of the Hebrew could be, “She had a good belly laugh.”  Her laughter lasted all the way to the naming of their child, Isaac—in Hebrew Yitzchak—which means “He will laugh.”

This week I had two episodes of uncontrollable laughter. Both were instigated by my wife pointing out (again) some characteristic behavior of mine. She did it in a playful way that allowed me to see my behavior.  In our second year class Who are You? we continue to explore who we are at our essence through identifying masks and we asked: Who is it that is laughing uncontrollably?  I emphasize the word uncontrollable—as it is clear that the laughter is beyond my (our) control.  In the instances this past week of uncontrollable laughter, I became aware of my masks and laughed. Perhaps Sarah also laughed uncontrollably at the masks she was wearing—a 90 year old woman giving birth?  Her laughter inspires us to see the masks we wear and in that moment of uncontrollable laughter, laughter wears us.

Laughter then is not only good medicine (in rare instances persistent uncontrollable laughter can be a sign of a neurologic condition), it is an emotion that helps us see our self beyond ourselves. Perhaps that is why so many comedians are Jewish—it is part of our spiritual inheritance—for through laughter (Yitzchak) you will survive and thrive.

The very first question I was asked about gematriyah (the numerology of Kabbalah) was the significance of the number 11?

In class we teach about your “awake number”—a number that signifies and signals to you that your are following your destiny—connecting with the fragments of your puzzle.

We find the number 11 in the spices used for the incense (Ketoret) burned in the Temple—according to tradition ten of the spices were sweet smelling—the 11^th (Galbunum) was foul smelling. The Rabbis explain that when mixed—the foul smelling spice created a stronger sweet smell—in a sense the incense needs a bit of its opposite to achieve its full potential.  The Talmud offers a novel interpretation of this mixture of the incense—drawing a parallel to the importance of including sinners (the 11^th element) into the holy congregation. The phrase in the Talmud is: A communal fast that does not include the sinners is not a fast. At the outset of Yom Kippur service, prior to chanting the Kol Nidrei service the prayers include recognition of praying with the sinners. Are we not all sinners? What is the meaning of the Talmudic statement or our tradition on Yom Kippur eve?

Sinners in this context may mean instead those who dissent—they are not accepting the norm of the community—they may be in synagogue (and even fasting) for their own motivations and not in line with the community’s way of understanding.

The number 11 then helps us to focus on the opposite of any idea that we may hold true and dear and be totally convinced of.  If we are to end up with anything that will be pleasing to the Divine, a fragrance that reflects the deepest essence, it must include the dissenting opinion—whether in others or in ourselves.

As Rita and I celebrate our 4^th anniversary of marriage on 11/11/11 we will burn some incense—assuredly there has been 10 measures of sweetness and a measure of Galbunum. The challenging moments are there to help us grow—the dissenting opinion to help us clarify our own thinking—the anger or sadness that leads to greater awareness.  Love too requires the 11^th spice—it matures and deepens through the bitterness of disappointments as long as the basis of the mixture is sweetness.

“For the listener, who listens in the snow, / And, nothing himself, beholds /
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.” Wallace Stevens

Tomorrow night we start our third season of Kabbalah Live! This year the theme is Aha Moments. As I sit looking out at the second snowfall of the season (so far Wednesdays are the designated snow day) I am reflecting on my Aha of why we have grown in size and expanded our programming.

One of our students responded to a teaching yesterday with the following: “Silences in music are as important as the music itself.” The impetus for this comment was a text by Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev on the empty spaces of the Torah—the “silences” in the Torah scroll—the in-between spaces of the letters. In Kabbalah these empty spaces are referred to as “white fire” on black fire.

Rabbi Mordechai (Moti) Twersky’s departure from Denver created an empty space in our community. The opportunity to learn with Rabbi Twersky was a main motivating factor for me to move to Denver in the late 80’s. The empty space, the silence that was felt by many when he left was where do we go now for our spiritual sustenance?  Rabbi Twersky also led the way in this community to build bridges across denominations. This would become another silence.

It is often hard enough to answer the question “how we have grown?” but I am interested in the question “why we have grown?” and to that I offer that the why is the empty space that needed to be filled when Rabbi Twersky left.

The curious thing is that the process of filling and creating space is constant—the Torah or any piece of music cannot exist without the empty spaces. Our growth cannot exist without the possibilities presented by empty space.

So I want to invite you all to fill in the blank __________.  Please respond to the following:

I would like to see Kabbalah Experience ___________________. Thank you.

All classes have been canceled today, Wednesday November 2, 2011 due to inclement weather.

Stay Warm,

Kabbalah Experience