CRASH INTO ME

BS"D
7 Av


I davened this morning in the beautiful tallit katan which Simon graciously gave me.


I've been feeling restless off & on, as I do during the 9 days. Usually I try to avoid it as long as I can. You know, put off feeling the weight of the Jewish calendar because it's so pure & real that you can't stand the intimacy. I guess I should write "I", rather than "you" in that sentence. I need to own this. But honestly, I'm no different than any other small human when I say that at some deep level we all long for the pure reality of intimacy with G@d, to be "on the inside of G@d's face" as Moses did. But it's too much to stand. Too big to hold. Too heavy to carry. Isn't it?

Kosi revaya - my cup overflows.

How to stand soul-to-soul with another?

It's hotter than Hades here; between the oppressive heat & the increasingly repressive weight of the 9th of Av approaching, I'm starting to crumble. Tisha Be-Av brings up all sorts of loss & grief for me. Personal, national, religious. To the point where I commit the sin of being cranky at everyone around me & inconsolable. Very reactive. & it builds.

Some women feel like this once per month. I feel like this once per year - during the 9 days.

I tried to blow off some steam by singing this morning. Some people go drinking, others write or do art. I do all of the above, but when the tension rises too high, I sing. I sang all the way home from my divorce - a 3-hour drive. & I sing more & more as the 9th of Av approaches. Today I've been singing Yetsiv Pisgam to an old Carlebach niggun. Singing Adon Olam to a traditional Scots Gaeligh tune, Mor Run Geal Dileas, which I figured out how to do during the aforementioned 3-hour drive. Anything to put off the inevitable dam burst.

I attempted to distract myself by going to a sofrut store - one I'd never yet explored. I saw that the little old sofer there was selling various sizes of reed & bamboo, which is what Sefardi & Mizrachi scribes use to write instead of feathers, as I was taught (being Ashkenazi). He was very kind to me & we made a bit of conversation in both Hebrew & English. I'm always very shy when I go into such places, because although I do not announce who I am/what I do for a living simply out of respect, I also will not disguise myself or lie to anyone I deal with. I picked out some reeds & bamboo from the old cardboard box & put them on the counter.

"Kamah zeh oleh?" I asked how much.
"Esrim - twenty sheqel" he replied. "Why you want these?"
"Ani rotzah la-asot...pens," I told him. I want to make pens.
"You put - " he gestured to a small glass jar of ink that he'd brought to the counter to show me.
"Be-d'yo" (in the ink), I finished.
"Ah, so you know some," he smiled.
"Here," he placed the reed he had just been using on a mezuzah in front of me on the counter. "You can have. Only don't use this for any purpose which is not holy, because I write The Name of the One with it."

I was stunned. I smiled for the first time all day, I think. I thanked him profusely, paid for my bamboo, thanked him more & headed out the door as I wished him a tzom kal - an easy fast.

SCORE!

All night I sat & carved wooden dip-pens for my sofrut practice. My Sofer mentioned aways back that I should try to find a sofer who would teach me the scribal ways of the Sefardim. Maybe this is the time.

My bamboo qulmusim:

The top one is the one the Sefardi sofer gave me, & the other two are ones I carved using his as a model. I know they look rather like sharpened pencils in this shot, but that's just the ink at the end, after I'd tried them out on some parchment I have sitting around on my desk.

So today wasn't a total loss. But oy, I can't wait for the Full Moon of Av to grant its total release from this spiritual agony.

May we only be strengthened, & for the good.




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