Monday night. Fifty five degrees out. Too cold. Staying in. Running late. What’s the use of going to shul?<\/p>\n
Tuesday morning. Failure. Failure. Failure. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m swirling down the toilet of life.<\/p>\n
On that happy note, let’s go to shul.<\/p>\n
Tuesday night. I’m swirling. I’m swinging. I’m spinning. I’m the outside man on a daisy wheel and we’re racing around the bima. As the outside man, I have to cover more ground. I have to run faster. I have to avoid crashing into the ark and through the mehitza into the ladies’ section.<\/p>\n
I’m spinning faster and faster. If I let go, I’ll spin out of control. I’ll crash and burn.<\/p>\n
I must hold tight.<\/p>\n
I mustn’t let go.<\/p>\n
Must not.<\/p>\n
Go.<\/p>\n
Ten PM. Fifth hakafot. Time for a change.<\/p>\n
I stride east on Pico Blvd and then south on Robertson to the Shtibl Minyan. There’s a high level of fervor. Men dance with women and the Torah. There’s a Sikh bloke with a purple turban. I wonder if he was born Jewish?<\/p>\n
There’s divrei Torah about finding a place for women in the tradition. The crowd is largely American Jewish University students and faculty and friends and lovers.<\/p>\n
These were once my people.<\/p>\n
I feel renewed hope for the Conservative movement. It will be blessed by beautiful rabbis.<\/p>\n
I stay in my shell and don’t say more than a few words to anyone. I don’t want to pull a muscle or sprain an ankle or make a fool of myself.<\/p>\n
I feel like the world is coming down on my head. I must stay quiet and calm and collected. I must conserve my inner resources. Still my inner drama queen.<\/p>\n
Don’t say anything dumb.<\/p>\n
Go home. Lie down. Be still.<\/p>\n
Boys don’t cry.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Monday night. Fifty five degrees out. Too cold. Staying in. Running late. What’s the use of going to shul? Tuesday morning. Failure. Failure. Failure. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m swirling down the toilet of life. On … Continue reading