A bit more than three weeks in to what I'm still mentally calling "The Maryland Experiment" and my life is all about connecting, meeting, shmoozing. Woody Allen may have intended his well-known quip to be tongue-in-cheek, but my life right now is, literally, just about showing up: text classes, services, Jewish community events, mixers. Lots of smiling, hand-shaking, handing out personal fliers, baby-kissing (okay, not the latter. Yet.). Self-promotion is a tiring job, but someone's got to do it. And, of course, it's not just about finding work. I'm genuinely thrilled to have so much opportunity - on a daily basis - to access a smorgasbord of quality Jewish learning experiences.
In terms of work, I'm teaching a 6-week class on Judaism and Healing (I didn't quite hit the 10-person minimum registration mark but they took pity on me. "She's from Idaho, for God's sake.") and, for the moment, those seven people are the only congregation I've got. So I'm of course obsessing over every detail of the class, my presentation and their response to it. I also managed to get on the D'var Torah column rotation in the Washington Jewish Week and my first piece will appear in the April 7th edition. Talk about obsessing -- Most novelists don't write and rewrite as many times as I did that 900 word take on the first day of Pesach's Torah portion. But I felt so much riding on my first public presentation in this community and - okay - maybe I'm just kind of generally obsessive?
I may have opportunity to provide B'nai Mitzvah tutoring (Clearly not at the top of the desired work list for rabbis, but I'm spending $80/week on gas. Enough said.) but I have to re-learn haftarah trope which I haven't used in decades. A local cantor gave me a CD which has been greatly helpful as I review. Of course the plaintive cries of the haftarah melody are completely stuck in my head; I'm constantly humming the cantillation's minor motif, providing kind of a Debbie Downer musical backdrop to my daily activities.
The weather's been amazing. I got a lot of outdoor time last weekend and not having to wear a coat has been among my greatest joys for the past several weeks. My mom and I went down to the DC tidal basin which is ground zero for cherry blossom viewing. Unfortunately, last week's wind storm cleared the branches a bit prematurely. There were clumps of camera-wielding tourists in the Independence Avenue median strip near the memorials as it featured the only blossoming trees in the area around the National Mall. That part was disappointing but we enjoyed strolling through the FDR and Martin Luther King memorials and touring the Museum of American History (nothing like being able to pass judgment on all the First Ladies' inaugural gowns to bring a bit of cheer).
This is not an emotionally easy process. The war between my self-doubt and my earnest hopefulness is a tough match, battles won as much on one side as the other. I'm glad to be surrounded by family and they've all been helpful and supportive as I try to find my way. I am very thankful for those rabbis and educators who have agreed to meet with me and who have offered suggestions and advice.
Sitting in the Shabbat morning service a week ago a woman came up to me and said, "I noticed your tallis with all the thumbprints. That's a really nice design."
"It is. It was given to me by my former congregation."
That tallis - a loving personalized gift from the CABI community - means so much to me. I may sit in a strange sanctuary (and I've been in one or two different ones every Shabbat) but I still feel the imprint of those who have spiritually nurtured me for the past eighteen years. Some days that's all that keeps me afloat.
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| With thanks to V.T. |
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