We all would like to think we have a purpose. Put more truthfully, we all would like to have a clear purpose that we do not have to question or worry over. I think that the reason I am thinking this thought is because I’m reading Thomas Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, a spiritual autobiography, written long ago in a different time, but compelling in its confessional seriousness. Thomas Merton’s vocation was to leave the world and become a monk in a monastery. “Leaving the world” is his terminology. To have a religious vocation as a monk is to leave the world. This idea is foreign to me, a Jew, who does not think the world is a place to leave in order to be religious, but a place in which to celebrate life, truly a different perspective.* At the same time, though, I envy him his certainty, which brings me to what I want to say about my experience today.

I began with a walk towards public transit in order to go to a daylong retreat at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City. I took the scenic route to BART (rapid transit) through City College. Midway through the campus, a man in a car pulled up to ask me a question;

“Do you know where the gym is? I’m trying to get to the gym.” I told him where the gym was and kept walking, including walking through the building where the gym was. I could hear the crowd gathered for a basketball game and was reassured that I had given him good directions. I made it to Redwood City, though I almost missed my stop because I was so immersed in Merton’s book. I sat in the meditation hall for 40 minutes and began to swell up as I always seem to do when I sit to meditate. My fingers get painfully swollen and I think that I’m doing an activity that is not healthy for me. I went to lunch and began to go back for the rest of the day’s activities – sitting meditation alternating with walking meditation – and it occurred to me that I would rather read and spend time with my husband than sit and swell in a meditation hall. I called Al, my husband, and made plans, walked to the train, got off at the BART station closest to my house, and, again, walked through City College. I was listening to a beautiful rendition of Salve Regina, sung by Benedictine monks, thinking that it would be great to use the beautiful melody and write alternative words, since the meaning of the Latin words doesn’t resonate for me in the way they are intended. We humanistic Jews do this with Jewish prayers as well. Why not this song? As I listened someone was trying to get my attention. She was driving a truck and was asking me where the gym was. I told her; this time I was quite sure about where it was.

So, what am I meant to do? Apparently, today I was meant to tell people where the gym is in City College. Tomorrow, who knows?

*Note: Paradoxically, if you read about Merton’s experiences working in the fields at Abbey of Gethsemani monastery in Kentucky, it is hard to believe he has left the world: “How sweet it is, out in the fields, at the end of the long summer afternoons! The sun is no longer raging at you, and the woods are beginning to throw long blue shadows over the stubble fields where the golden shocks are standing. The sky is cool, and you can see the pale half-moon smiling over the monastery in the distance. Perhaps a clean smell of pine comes down to you, out of the woods, on the breeze, and mingles with the richness of the fields and of the harvest. And when the undermaster claps his hands for the end of work, and you drop your arms and take off your hat to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, in the stillness you realize how the whole valley is alive with the singing of crickets, a constant universal treble going up to God out of the fields, rising like the incense of an evening prayer to the pure sky: laus perennis!”

Merton, Thomas (1998-10-04). The Seven Storey Mountain: Fiftieth-Anniversary Edition (p. 432). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.

I am addicted to doing. I allow myself to just “be” once a week – on Saturday, on Shabbat, and this links me to a chain of Jewish practice that goes far back in history. I like this “time outside of time” as Abraham Joshua Heschel described Shabbat. However, I’m beginning to think that this one day is not enough. I seem to be addicted to constant activity. I think I may have learned this behavior from my family. We are not worthy unless we are being productive.

I retired almost 9 months ago. Nine months is an apt moment to be born anew. I’d like to be born anew as a person who is productive when that makes sense in my life and as a relaxed and in-the-moment person when that makes sense. My obsessive desire to always be productive is a problem for me. I am in a constant state of tension, thinking that if I am not engaged in an activity that has some use for the world, that I’m wasting my time. But doesn’t it benefit the world to “be peace” as Thich Nhat Hanh (a Vietnamese Buddhist monk and peace activist) says? If a moving butterfly’s wings have reverberations across the planet, certainly a person at peace does so as well, yes?

To know something is not enough. “Being” requires as much discipline as “doing,” when you are a compulsive doer. I write this blog to publically state my intention. I hope others will help me in this endeavor.

The first step will be to read the newspaper tomorrow morning and do the crossword puzzle as I sip coffee and eat breakfast. I’ll periodically report about my progress.

It’s Chanukah and, as usual, I feel a strong conflict. My Jewish self wants to celebrate Jewish holidays and Chanukah is one of them. When I was a child I remember playing with dreidels (a form of children’s gambling) and eating delicious latkes (potato pancakes). The competition with Christmas had not begun back then, and we truly considered the holiday to not be that important. I enjoyed lighting the candles and eating the latkes, but there wasn’t much there there.

When I attended Hebrew School I learned about the evil Seleucid Empire and how they tried to force the Jews to worship their gods and how they desecrated the Temple in Jerusalem. The brave Maccabees fought the Seleucids and won . . .Yahoo! Now we can be Jews without anyone imposing their views on us. There isn’t much of a spiritual component to this story, just one band of fighters winning over a temporarily weak empire involved in other wars, not very inspiring to me at all. Then, as an adult I learned about the original story of Chanukah that made me want to celebrate it even less! The conflict was really a civil war between Hellenizing Jews and traditionalists. These traditionalists, who won the battle, were more like the Taliban than liberators.*

Now what? The sages had difficulty with the Maccabees too. They were not keen on making Chanukah a holiday, but the people were celebrating so they created a story about the miracle of the oil. The holiday then symbolized hope, light in darkness, and took on a more universal and less militaristic quality. Also, we put our Chanukiot (what most people call menorahs) in the window to show that we are Jews and we are not afraid to let others know that we are Jews. I like that, too. As we know, it has not always been easy to be a Jew in places where Jews are a minority. Chanukah, like all Jewish holidays, clearly evolved and took on new meanings. For example, activists for social justice created a myth that the Maccabees were freedom fighters.

What does Chanukah mean to us today? Universally, bringing light into the dark winter gives us hope. For me, this could be enough. I’m happy to let go of the story of the Maccabees. At the same time, however, Chanukah is about taking pride in our Jewish roots and not being afraid to express our culture in the midst of a majority who celebrate other holidays of light. This year, I dedicate my celebration of Chanukah to Muslims who are experiencing discrimination and fear fueled by a few radical extremists who profess to have the same faith. Together we need to light the darkness of hate and fear.

Shalom / Salaam

*My reference to the Taliban is not necessarily accurate; i.e., there are differences of opinion about how much force was exerted on the Idumaeans and Ituraeans by the Hasmoneans to conform to Judean ways (be circumcised, for example), not to mention that the Maccabees and the Hasmoneans are not synonymous.

About 20 years ago our daughter came home from school and introduced us to her friend and told us that this friend also sits with her family and eats dinner together. At the time, this was an unusual occurrence for many young people, and this was before smartphones! Now, even those families who may gather together for dinner aren’t fully present for each other because they’re checking their smart phones, worrying about missing out on some new text or Facebook post, Twitter post, or email. To just be with each other is becoming more and more rare. If someone is sitting across from you and is expressing an emotion that should be paid attention to, you may not notice because your eyes are looking down at a smart phone.

Sherry Turkle is an ethnographer and the director of the M.I.T. Initiative on Technology and Self. She has been speaking out about how addiction to our smartphones reinforces our fear of being in silence and our fear of being bored. There is a constant craving for stimulation provided by media on your smartphone. We forget how to just sit in silence or to speak eye-to-eye with the person across from us.

I will confess that I am not immune from this smartphone trend. I am trying to put the phone away when I’m with people, but I feel the pull of it. I don’t want to miss out. What if someone is writing to me? I know it can wait but I want to respond right away. This is a bad habit! Recently I bought a new phone. I clicked on a link that activated my new one but there was a software glitch. The panic I felt was all out of proportion to the situation. I became obsessed. I had no smartphone. I stopped everything else I was doing and spent hours on the phone with the phone company and then the manufacturer of the phone. I experienced this phone as an extension of my body. It was as though a part of my body was not working and had to be fixed immediately. I knew I was out of control but I kept on pushing through until I had my phone working. I know from my own experience that smartphone attachment and addiction is real and powerful.

What is my solution? I am trying to disconnect once a week on Shabbat. From sundown Friday night until Saturday evening I’m trying to stay disconnected. One way to do this is to put an “away” message on your email and perhaps post “Shabbat Shalom” on Twitter and Facebook. That’s a start. What do you do to temper your smartphone addiction?

We are entering an important, challenging time in the Jewish calendar, a time to reflect on the past and seek to find a better way forward. This is a time to change our habitual self-centered orientation. We forgive those who wronged us and ask for forgiveness from those whom we wronged. We seek to be more understanding and compassionate. There are many websites that help us at this time. We don’t have to rely on a particular rabbi or synagogue for our inspiration. I found a website that I thought was particularly inspiring. It’s called Jewels of Elul, and though I don’t agree with every contributor’s orientation, one of the pieces was particularly inspiring to me. It was posted on the fourth day of Elul (Elul is a month in the Jewish calendar – leading up towards Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur – the High Holidays) and I’ve pasted it below:

Elul 4: Mohini ~ Rabba Sara Hurwitz

As we age, our brains are hardwired to reject change. We are conditioned to resist new challenges and remain within our comfort zones. However, growing older should not mean that we must exist within self-imposed boundaries.

In the 1960s, President Eisenhower received the gift of a rare, white tiger named Mohini. For years, Mohini lived in the Washington Zoo and spent her days pacing back and forth in a 12-by-12 foot cage. Finally the zoo decided to build her a larger cage so Mohini could run, climb and explore. But when Mohini arrived at her new home, she didn’t rush out, eagerly adapting to her new habitat. Rather, she marked off a 12-by-12 foot square for herself, and paced there until her death, never enjoying the new opportunities in front of her. Mohini exemplifies the classic conditioning most of us live within. Although she was a magnificent, powerful creature, Mohini was convinced her “place” was just a 12-by-12 foot square. We all have the propensity to behave exactly like Mohini. Based on our conditioning, we create invisible cages for ourselves, limiting our lives within their boundaries.

But we don’t have to succumb to our internal imprisonment. Throughout the High Holidays, we will hear the shofar blast. Historically, the shofar signaled the release of all slaves at the end of the Jubilee year. That sound should make us ask, “What enslaves us? What weighs us down? What baggage do we hold onto?” And then, let it go. The High Holidays present us with a tunnel: an opportunity to break free from our self-imposed cages, to find our route to freedom and to live life with renewed passion. The shofar inspires us to free the Mohini inside and move beyond our boundaries.

Rabba Sara Hurwitz is the Dean of Yeshivat Maharat, the first Orthodox institution to ordain women as spiritual leaders.http://www.yeshivatmaharat.org

Recently I had the privilege of interviewing Barry Daniel for the Middle Way Society Podcast. Was Barry promoting a book? No. Was he promoting a movie or play or particular event? No. Barry simply talked about his life, a life that has been packed with adventure and transformation. He talked about his youth in Manchester, his time with the navy, and the many places he has lived all over the world. I was inspired by the work he has done – offering his emotional support working with the Samaritans in the U.K., his experience working with Mother Teresa helping the dying in Calcutta, and his work with the Green Party to name a few.

Barry Daniel is usually the voice you hear interviewing others for the Middle Way Society Podcast. I invite you to hear about his life in his own words. I’m grateful to have heard his story and I think you will be also.

http://www.middlewaysociety.org/the-mws-podcast-69-barry-daniel-member-profile/

Audio only: http://www.middlewaysociety.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/podcast69BarryDaniel.mp3

For some reason the following Karl Marx statement has stuck in my mind since I first read it as a young adult:

“In communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of activity but each can become accomplished in any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner, just as I have a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, herdsman or critic.” [from German Ideology, 1845]

Though I don’t share his choices of activities, I always thought that an ideal society would make it possible for people to do various activities and not be confined to one, potentially boring, job. His hopes for creating such a society never came to be except in one way. In well-off first world countries, if you have the good fortune of living to retirement age, and you can afford to retire, there is a limitless wealth of activities from which to choose. Here is a sampling of my own choices from the last couple weeks.

Everyday: I wake up whenever my body tells me to wake up. I stretch, brew some coffee, and read the local paper. I walk over to my computer, check my e-mail, and write for 2 hours. I follow up on any letters related to political and professional groups with which I’m affiliated. I also read various journals online, such as Tablet, Tikkun, The Forward, and interesting links that Facebook friends post. What a pleasure! I like to walk an hour a day. Not a day goes by when I’m not grateful that I’m able to do this. When I was wheelchair bound, 13 years ago, I wasn’t sure that walking an hour a day was in my future.

Typical Monday includes Barre Assets class, a ballet-based core strengthening and limb stretching exercise class. After that, I go grocery shopping. I take my time because I can! I cook a delicious dinner that will last a few days. Included will be a walk with my husband and perhaps a Netflix movie. In between activities I’ll read from one of the three books I’m reading. Right now I’m reading The Highest Tide by Jim Lynch, Sam Harris’ Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion, and Oliver Sack’s autobiography, On the Move: A Life. What a joy! Another typical Monday includes preparing for Toastmasters which I attend every Tuesday.

Typical Tuesday includes a great Tai Chi class taught by Cecilia Tom at the UCSF Mission Bay fitness center, Bakar Fitness. She runs a demanding but rewarding class. I rush off to Toastmasters across the road. Our Toastmasters community is warm, supportive, diverse, and, wonderful! I look forward to participating and hearing the speeches. If you want to learn to do public speaking in a supportive environment, I highly recommend Toastmasters!

Tuesday activities continue into the evening. Lately, I’ve been taking a storytelling class at The Marsh, a local small theatre that specializes in producing monologue/plays written and performed by one person. I’m creating a short piece, receiving coaching from Charlie Varon, a stellar writer, performer, teacher – stretching myself to my limits! Yikes! This is HARD!

The high point of Wednesday is caring for our 10 month old grandson. He’s a joy to be around. Seeing the world through his eyes is a special rewarding experience. We adults become so jaded as we get older, seeing everything in a habitual way. Looking at the world and hearing sounds by closely observing a baby is a great learning experience. You don’t need a grandchild to do this – find a baby and see if you can hang out with him/her!

Thursday is play rewrite day. Also, it’s a day for Zumba (aerobic dance) and Feldenkrais (a form of movement education – especially good for people who have range of motion issues, as I do from a serious injury).

Friday is open; a time for reading, writing, and whatever comes up. I may decide to make it a Shabbat preparation day.

Saturday is Shabbat, a non-productive, restful day for mindfulness.

Sunday is socialize with friends day.

I’m so happy to do my own creative work and to have time to exercise, babysit, and cook. I realize that I am privileged to do these activities. Not everyone is able to retire. I had the good fortune of working at a place that offers a pension. This is just the beginning of my retirement. It’s been less than a month. I’m still looking for volunteer opportunities. What a joy to be able to do this! I am grateful beyond words!