So I’m walking in Hood Mountain in the early evening and I am in deep thought over what to write for Passover which is just two days away. I bet I look preoccupied, like when someone is talking to you while checking their smartphone. If someone could plug into my brain, my internal dialogue would sound something like this: “’From degradation to exaltation….’ ‘ Didn’t you write that last year?’ ‘Passover is the jewel in the crown of the Jewish Holidays’…. Boring! Think George, think! It’s in there somewhere….” Surely after a great sabbatical, for which I am very grateful, I should be able to come up with something fresh and new!
I grind away, mentally and physically, for at least a quarter mile when I have a “mindfulness moment.” I stop and actually notice where I am: how green it is, the carpet of lupine waving in the breeze, the robin’s sweet song to my right, the stunning beauty of the large oak tree in front of me, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. That’s when it comes to me, that the oldest layer of Passover is a paean to the natural world, a celebration of spring, the miracle of regeneration, rebirth and renewal. This earth-based narrative got buried over time, replaced by the Exodus story, but if you look hard you can still find it, for example, in the parsley and hardboiled egg on the Seder plate and in the tradition of reading the Song of Songs (erotic love poetry set in the land of Israel in the spring) during the week of Passover.
“I am my beloved’s, And his desire is for me. Come, my beloved, Let us go into the open; Let us lodge among the henna shrubs. Let us go early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine has flowered, If its blossoms have opened, If the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give my love to you. The mandrakes yield their fragrance, At our doors are all choice fruits; Both freshly picked and long-stored Have I kept, my beloved, for you.” - Song of Songs 7:11-14
Then a memory flooded in from Seder in Jerusalem some 25 years ago. I was at Rabbi David Hartman’s table, may his memory be for a blessing, and he taught that Pesakh at its core, and especially the Seder, was about gratitude. Wow! We have so much to be grateful for, I thought as I started to walk again. Unsurpassed natural beauty all around us, a reasonably prosperous economy, an exceptional level of personal safety and freedom, great food, community, culture, etc.
I’d like you to believe that I spent the rest of my walk reveling in the beauty of Hood Mountain, feeling thankful and warmed by the memory of my teacher. But in fact, I began to write – in my head of course - another blog about Passover as a celebration of spring and gratitude, which bogged me down like before, but this time I was quicker to notice, stopped, took a breath and returned to the present which was even more beautiful than a few moments before, the sun now a burnt orange frame for the ridge line as dusk descended on the meadow I was standing in.
Rabbi Nachman of Breslov taught that, “The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year, and even every day.”
I would add, “even in every moment,” because watching my mind as I walked taught me that we are often just one thought away from being free.
Hag Sameach!
RG
That’s beautiful Rabbi George!
I love that your walk in the woods was a pathway to refreshment.
Whenever I let go, I let in.
So it is with Passover. Every year is a new beginning and an appreciation for what went before. Every yer is laden with memories.
One year when I lived up in the hills I had my children imagine they the freed slaves in the desert. They were supposed to find the things they needed to make the journey an easy one.
I planted clues and objects ( like a flashlight and a map anything that would help them survive) in a desert.Then we talked about what our forebears did not have . It was a day to remember.
So glad your walk sparked your blog. .
Rabbi George , What a beautiful message, equating Passover with gratitude and nature (with the lovely old oak photo). I can certainly relate to both of those though I had never thought of them regarding Passover myself. I am feeling gratitude for many things in my life and belonging to Shomrei Torah and living in our beautiful Sonoma County is among them. Thank you for your thoughts on your walk.
You continue to be an inspiration.
I just realized that my name was wrong on the above comment. Mary Ann Newman
Dear Rabbi George,
Thank you for giving us some insight your creative process. I’m happy that I took the time to read your blog. You and CST are anchors for me because my children are not close by, nor are they sharing our Jewish heritage with their children, and I feel bereft of the joy that that would have brought to my husband and me. Yet, I’m deeply grateful for the friendship, the caring, the love, the connectedness that you and CST have brought into our lives.
Warm regards & Chag Sameach!,
Myra R. Slatoff
Beautiful RG. I was touched by the wisdom and beauty of the Song of Songs, which is new to me: “Let us go into the open; … Have I kept, my beloved, for you.”
What is the “open”?
Your piece reminded me of my morning walks through an Oak glenn, with dripping moss, now pregnant with the leaves of life. When I stop my thoughts about it, yes, even the awe and beauty of it, the infinite Love behind the veil is simply revealed. In that moment, the “I” I think I am is free. It dissolves like the morning mist by the sun. The new “I” is one with the eternal beloved…again.
Thanks for the reminder.
Thank you Rabbi George for your beautiful commentary and for sharing your personal walking epiphany complemented with the stunning photographic images. Your quoting from the Song of Songs reminds me of how the ancient people appreciated those same verities of the human heart as we, and I loved feeling connected to their soulful contemplations. Additionally, Rabbi Nachman’s teaching reminds me to embrace my own gratitude list.
Wishing you, your family and our extended CST family much love and peace.
we are on the same page together. It was almost as if you are quoting from the magic of the ordinary
It was so good to read your blog as we find our selves so far from home this Passover. We are enjoying the freedom to explore the beautiful city of Barcelona, where Jews were once neither free nor welcome. We visited the well preserved remains of the city’s oldest synagogue, dating back to the 4th century- the guide explained the old law that no synagogue could be higher than the smallest church, and we thought of CST on its hill and felt both free and greatful
Thank you not only for your thoughts, but for sending them out where we, who are too ill to come, can still take part. That we are one congregation, one people, celebrating Pesach together, is an encouraging thought. I am so glad you are back. Patrice
Right on, Rabbi G! Everytime we go south of Petaluma through Marin County and over the Golden Gate, we never fail to comment how blessed we are to live in such a magnificent setting. And a Rabbi who cares so much about the wonderfulness of it all! Judy and I are even more blessed to have our two daughters and two Grand Boyz living in Sonoma County to celebrate all the holidays.
Thursday was a day for drowning. Drowning in to-do’s but mostly drowning In Gratitude. All day had seen texts from friends wishing and sharing Passover greetings but we also stopped to thank the village we have created amongst ourselves. As expected, I’ve been a bawling mess. And when I have a son who says he wishes he could be here to cry with me, how much more can a heart break open? Thank you for your part in this journey and sharing your soulful insight. I try to walk with gratitude daily, but today I needed to give it a voice. As with other connections in my life, the ones I’ve created within CST are far too special not to honor at this moment. Happy Passover.