Good Things Come in Threes

For the past few years, around this time, I feel compelled to explore my heritage.  And by this time, I don't mean the week after Labor Day, or the impending demise of summer.  Though the date may be different in the civil calendar, it is always the same in the Jewish Calendar.  The first of Tishri.  The equivalent of January 1st; the New Year.  

There are no balloon drops or champagne.  Instead this season of awe is both joyful and somber.  Forgiving and reflective.  For the second year now, I celebrated with my daughter, Andrea, under a huge tent at the Denver Botanic Gardens.  The details are immaculately executed by Judaism Your Way.  There is something magical about religious services being held in the spaciousness of nature.  I feel close to my Higher Power in the sunshine and fresh air.  My scant memories of temple in my youth are stifling and constrictive.   Not here.  There is an ethereal quality of open air and open mindedness blending in this setting.  All are welcome here.  That message was subtly and overtly repeated throughout the morning.  This is my place to practice my faith in my way.

Whenever I attend a religious service, I feel a connectedness to a power greater than myself.  This is a very adult concept for me.  I did not have a Bat Mitzvah.  I did not attend Hebrew School.  I could resent my parents for this shortsightedness, but as a grown-up the responsibility of my education and exploration is in my hands.  Why my parents neglected to teach me about G-d and Judaism is one of the mysteries of my childhood that I can either dwell upon, or accept.  My parents are both gone twenty+ years.  They are not here to ask.  It is too much energy to make-up stories in my head about it.  Instead, I will continue practicing acceptance of their faults and of their merits.

When my children were born, my husbands' religion seemed very important to him.  It seemed to me, at that time, that he was a faithful practitioner of his childhood faith.  I acquiesced and agreed that we would be church-goers.  We would celebrate Christian holidays through church and dogma; Jewish holidays through food and rituals.  I have regrets about that decision.  I became the primary parental unit that got the kids to religious instruction.  I dressed them on Sunday mornings and shooed everyone out the door.  In church the kids were bored and disconnected; my ex enjoyed his Sabbath nap.  One day I was done and any remnant of a religious upbringing for my three kids faded like a prayer flag in the elements.  

I knew I was a fake - but I wasn't ready to turn into my own faith yet.  We often hear the word journey bandied about in regards to spiritual work.  For me it has been a trek. Yoga played a part.  Teachers reading Pema Chodron or Tich Nach Hahn at the end of class inspired me to explore Buddism.  I read many books, learned to meditate.  For the year I lived in Fort Collins I was part of a sangha that met for group meditation and mindful eating.  Have you ever taken twenty minutes to eat one almond?  The gentleness of this practice and the soft quality of the words and the ways spoke to me.  I was able to continue without a formal community in my own time; my own way.

But this Judaism thing...  It is religion, tradition, formality and freedom.  There are many sects and degrees of deepness.  I feel like I have choices.  With Judaism Your Way, I feel I have a voice.  As I enter the fourth quarter of my life, is this where my religiosity can grow?  Is Judaism the pillow for my heart?  The stimulation for my intellect?

I mentioned earlier not being taught about G-d.  As a young adult I eschewed the concept.  Wasn't G-d for Christians only?  (now I know how narrow-minded that thinking was).  Wasn't G-d only for those who couldn't figure life out for themselves?  (now I know what a relief it is to turn it over to a power greater than myself).   When my son was born I felt a niggling.  A tug.  For the miracle of birth to occur there had to be something more to life than eggs and sperm.  But three kids in less than five years, and work, and marriage left me little time to explore.  What was out there?  How does this miracle of life and love and learning occur on this aqueous orb?

About ten years ago, I started attending Al-Anon.  It was there I found a way of life that brings joy and relief.  It was there I found a Higher Power - of my understanding - to look to and lean on.  Al-Anon is not a religion.  It is not therapy.  For me it is a spiritual program.  In retrospect, I can see that spirituality was a missing piece in the puzzle of my life.  I am grateful for my journey.  Summed up in simple steps - nothing to something  - to more - to yearning - to learning - and back again.

Now.  Now, I want to learn more about my religion of origin.  Have I always been Jewish in my heart and my head just needed to catch up?  Maybe.  In Denver there is much opportunity to be Jewish.  It is my responsibility to find the options and make choices that resonate with me.  The trifecta for me may be the trisection of Buddhism, Judaism and Al-Anon.

   “the rule of three” (Latin-"omne trium perfectum") principle suggests things that come in threes are inherently more humorous, satisfying and effective than any other number of things.

And in my own words:

I Choose

I roused in Al-Anon

Those rooms were where

A sense of Source, a Higher Power

Pulsated my piety

I obediently sat upright in shul

I never stood on the bema

Denied a debut Aliyah

My tongue knows no Hebrew

Getting the spirituality right

Righted my head, my emotions

Al-Anon taught me about

Letting go and letting God

The synagogue of my youth is hollow

Hallowed halls echo a nothingness my

Ears never strained to hear

Siddurs written in a language I do not understand

Al-Anon loves me how I am

Meetings are my church

Compassionate members my fellowship

My Higher Power is my Higher Power

The experience of formality

Stifled me – God as a Holy Man’s formula

Childlike images of an old bearded man

On a throne, reigning in the heavens

Once I heard religion is for those who fear hell

Spirituality is for those of us who have already been there

I don’t know if these are true words

But I do know this;

The confines of religion confine me

The breadth of spirituality allows me to breathe

Time to Write,

Jane