Just a theory...
***Please note, the following post is purely the product of a mind in desperate need of more sleep...Friday night brought me on my semi-annual Shabbat dinner at the Rabbi's house. Only the hostess was not one of the rabbi's, and I don't think I actually saw any of the rabbi's. But that's neither here nor there. No, what's important is that I went. I left my comfort zone behind and attended dinner with 9 strangers, with the express goal of having a good time. And I did. Have a good time that is. But more importantly, I was remdinded of a theory of mine. See, in Judaism we have many, many, many...many rituals. We have rituals for births, deaths, marriage, bread, wine, dinner...you name it, there's a ritual. We even have one for handwashing before a meal. Which is more like hand rinsing, but again neither here nor there. So the ritual for hand rinsing goes a bit like this: -Wait in line for the sink with the special cup. -Talk to your neighbors while waiting. -Rinse hands while laughing about how you can never remember the words to the prayer; say prayer.-Walk silently back to table to await the blessing over the challah. This last step is the most important. We are not allowed to talk until after we've had a bite of bread. And we can't have the bread until it's been blessed and passed out by whomever is reciting the blessing. (See what I mean about rituals?) So we sit there, silent. Or as silent as we can be, which isn't much. Mostly we end up giggling about the fact we're even expected to remain silent. There are hand gestures, charades, really bad sign language, and head bobs, all in attempts to communicate without using actual words. This is where my theory comes in. I believe that this hand-rinsing ritual was not, in fact, created because it was important to remain silent until the bread has been blessed. Nope. My theory? The whole thing was devised to see just how long you can make a room full of hungry Jews be silent. I know, I know. It probably has some very solemn and important meaning behind it. But it's my theory and I'm sticking to it.Labels: Jewish musings, shabbat
Jewish Guilt
A friend recently pointed out to me that I'm suffering from a major case of unnecessary Jewish guilt. I feel guilty that others are having problems with their writing and that things (in my humble opinion) are going in the general direction I want them to. Life's not perfect. I'm still unpublished. I still have to clean my own bathroom. I'm still single. I still wake up every day and go to work.
But life's pretty good.
So how did I get to the point where I feel like something's seriously wrong because nothing is wrong? I know I'm not alone here. I know other's have felt this way before.
And to make it worse? I feel guilty for acknowledging that life is pretty good. Well, again if you ignore the whole having to clean my own bathroom bit. Or the fact that UPS is all set to deliver a package on Monday that ISN'T MY PACKAGE! I've tried contacting the shippers to tell them they are sending me the wrong order, but thanks to Shabbat they aren't answering emails. Or phones (even if I called them). *sigh* And I feel horrible because it's a not-for-profit company, so they'll have to foot the bill for shipping to the wrong location.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we must be closing in on the High Holidays. Only Yom Kippur can bring about this amount of unnecessary guilt.
So Shana Tova to all of my fellow Jews. May this be a sweet and healthy new year for all. As for the rest of you? I'm ducking from the rotten tomatoes I know you're throwing my way.Labels: holidays, Jewish musings, life, shabbat
Bet you didn't know...
Last night I went to the rabbi's house for shabbat dinner. I love these dinners because they are usually so relaxing, and entertaining. It's rare that I don't spend most of the evening smiling and laughing, talking and eating. Plus, most of the people who attend are usually ones I don't know, and so I get to make all sorts of new friends. What was special about this night, however, was they were advertising it as a "Singles Shabbat." Now, I've said before that sometimes I'm a little slow. But I'm not that slow. clearly this was something to go do...even if it was a bust.
Now would be a good time to point out that the only people in the world who want to see a nice Jewish girl married off more than her mother or grandmothers, would be the nice, Jewish rabbis. Seriously, there biggest goal in life is to see us all happily married off. And it's a fine goal, just one that can be a little scary to think about some times.
So I signed up, sending the organizer my name and age, as requested. And are you all thinking what I'm thinking? That they will organize based on age groups? Well, appparently that's where I made my mistake. I arrived at the rabbi's, met his fabulous wife, and discovered that apparently there had been confusion about my email. Really, that must be the case. It's the only explanation for why I was now in a room with about 8 people. only three of us under the age of 40. Most appeared over the age of 50. Hm...there must be some mistake. Did I go to the wrong house? Hm...mentally check address. No, I'm in the right house. Hm...This can't be right. Can it?
I guess it can.
The rest of the evening, once I realized I was indeed in the right house, went smoothly. Lots of laughter, good food, good people. Fun conversations. Even seeing someone at the end of the dinner who I'd rather not have seen, couldn't ruin the evening. I made several new friends, and may even have some new hiking buddies, so I'm excited. Plus, I got to reconnect with a teacher friend I haven't seen in over a year.
And ultimately? I discovered that I really was at the right house. Had they sent me to another one, I likely would not have had nearly as good a time. So, yes, sometimes there really is a master plan. I just don't always know what it is.
Labels: shabbat
