Dust and Ashes

ב׳׳ה

Dust and Ashes
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I’m just dust and ashes, but this world WAS made for me! When my fear is out of the way, I’m able to see the pattern in the process, the rhythm of the rhyme, Hashem bringing what I need when it’s truly time for me to grow or to “shed another skin,” so I’ll keep “digging this well,” until this body’s just dust again!!
 

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Rabbi Simcha taught we should keep a strip of paper in each pocket of our pants — one to remind us (when we feel arrogant) that we are just dust and ashes, and the other to remind us (when we feel down) that the world was created just for us.  

This Shabbat, let’s imagine holding both of those strips of paper at once. Let’s each remain certain that we are only dust and ashes, while also having no doubt that we have a unique, infinitely important role to play in the miracle that is Creation’s unfolding… for there, balancing both, is where we can find holiness.  

shabbat shalom to all, jen

HaMakom (“the place”)

ב׳׳ה



HaMakom
(“The Place”)

How can I express
what it is to experience
floating in “The Place” with no words,
where all discord harmonizes
into one perfect Unity and
The Mystery calls me its own Name?

To be in HaMakom
where there is only breathing
(and the One breathing is not mortal-me)
is to be transported
beyond time and space,
to where souls once were and will be.

There’s no need for signposts.
Past and future irrelevant,
transfixed in the Eternity of Now.
No directions to wander
when diffused through Infinity.
Nor feet that could touch solid ground.

There I’m forever,
no beginning or ending,
Eternal-Infinite breathing The Name.
I return awestruck and giddy,
with joy and peace overflowing,
mortal-me again forever changed.
 
 

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HaMakom
is Hebrew and literally means “the place.”  However, it is also a name for Gd.  And, as there is no place without Gd, any place can be The Place, if we are willing to open our hearts so that our eyes might see and our ears might hear. 

shavua tov, jen

Flying Being One

ב׳׳ה


Flying Being One

Flying
Time spent flying
Long strange trips nowhere
For where is there to go…
…when the Universe is inside us
…when all Creation sings of the One

Being
It’s a way of being
More present than imaginable
Love flows from the Source
Constantly over-filling our souls
Reminding us we exist in Gd’s Grace.

One
The Universe is One
Every thing an inter-connected web
We can ignore or
choose to acknowledge and
join those who are Flying Being One
 
 
 
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This Shabbat, may we each be blessed with a moment when we are undoubtably aware of the Unity that underlies all of creation, and may our awareness help us feel more compassion for others.

Shabbat shalom to all, jen

please carry me

ב׳׳ה



please carry me

Won’t You please carry me
out past my fear
to where I’m secure in Your Love?
To a place where I know,
as surely as I’m breathing,
my existence alone makes me enough,
that I don’t need to struggle
or feign that I’m more
for those “mores” don’t really matter.
What matters are compassion
and renunciation of pride,
for then can You bless me with Grace.

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shavua tov to all, jen

Soul Dancing

ב׳׳ה

Soul Dancing
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Soul dancing up high where the skies are bright blue, beyond the grey clouds of injustice and gloom, in the joy of the Love, the revelation of Light, the Infinity where I wander when my soul takes flight.  I dance though I’m crying — I can’t tell you why; my soul sometimes weeps over pain that’s not mine.   I dance to the rhythm of Gd’s Eternal Tune.  I dance as if my partner’s the most stunning full moon.  I dance away worries, anxiety, and fear.  I dance ’til I’m sure that the Angels can hear the pounding of my heart, louder than any drum.   I dance ’til Gd tells me, “This soul dance is done.”  Then I wander back down to this time and place, wondering if others can see on my face that I snuck far away to where I am Free. Soul Dancing in Infinity, my Gd and me.

.

.

praying Shabbat brings more shalom to us all, jen

Weaving with Kabir

ב׳׳ה


Weaving with Kabir
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Fiber spun from words
into tapestries of praise
worthy of adorning our Gd.
Am I fiber, loom, or weaver?
Perhaps none of them?
For is not the One beneath all?
Surely I’m just a lamb
who grew a little wool,
shepherded by wiser faces of Gd.
Or some kind of robot
programmed to weave fabric
by The Greatest Engineer of them all.
On bad days I’m a loom,
unaware of The Weaver,
distracted by my need for control.
All I know is these words
pour from me into phrases
that I pray are found befitting our Gd.
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shavua tov, a good week to all, jen