Back on track!

Shalom Chaverim.

The lack of blogging the past two weeks has left me with pains in my fingers and in my soul. I've been so busy, so incredibly pressed for time, that this is really the first day I've been able to blog since our return from Istanbul. It feels good to finally sit down and blog it all out. And, it's fitting that Shabbat, my day of rest, is also my day for re-connecting with home and my feelings. But, it's also a day for working: on school, on homework, on the things I've needed to do but haven't had time for. It's a day to confront that which I've neglected. Shabbat is a complicated day, but this is a complicated place, so it goes with the territory.

In the heat of the moment, it was difficult to find the right words to express my immense sadness over Adam's departure. It was truly one of the hardest, most gut-wrenching experiences of my life to say goodbye to him. I'm feeling stronger now, and know in my heart these nine months apart will help us grow as individuals and as a couple. I'm so grateful to the creators of Skype for enabling me to chat with Adam while staring at his beautiful face, as this was something we lacked while I was studying in Spain in 2005. But I miss his warmth, and his physical presence in my life. I look forward to the day when I can just hold him again, and know it will come. I miss him dearly.

School starting was a huge kick in the ass, and I felt totally overwhelmed the first week. I have nine classes... NINE! But I'm starting to get the hang of it and feel more secure in my lack of knowledge. Most of these professors are incredible, and I feel so blessed to be learning from them. Sometimes I feel totally out of my league, and sometimes I want to stand up and cheer over some intellectual breakthrough. But mostly, this material fascinates and enchants me. As we get deeper into the year, I'll have more specific and concrete things to say.

This past week we traveled up north to the Galillee and Golan Heights for a school trip. It was great, and done well, and organized properly. It was on this trip that I had my first "Aha!" moment about Israel. I finally started to get it; how and why this tremendous connection between the people and the land exists here. I finally started to crack the surface; to understand why this is seen as the Jewish homeland, and why there is such an immense fight over keeping it for the Jews. People making Aliyah also started to make more sense to me, as we met with many people who encapsulate the "New Jew" philosophy. I'm still formulating my opinions about it all, and perhaps a later blog post is in order to fully encapsulate my understanding. But either way, I am really starting to get it. And I'm happy that the getting it is occuring.

Last night I attended services at Kol Ha Neshama, a Progressive congregation here in Jerusalem. It was the first service I've attended here in J'lem, outside of the HUC campus synagogue, that reminded me of home. Almost everything was in Hebrew, but the physical space, the set up, the prayer melodies, and the rabbi's way of running things, were all reminiscent of California synagogues. I enjoyed myself, but didn't feel entirely connected. Still, it was a spiritual breakthrough in what I've come to recognize as a somewhat frustrating prayer experience here in Jerusalem.

What I've ascertained is this: in my former life, my Jewish practice was a choice. I chose where to pray, where to get involved, and what community to belong to. I was lucky to have a relatively decent buffet of choices in San Francisco, and I fell in love with Emanu-El's congregation. I chose my choice, and I chose well. Here in Jeusalem, I feel that my Jewish practice is less of a choice. It's encouraged, and sort of forced upon us, to pray at specific places on certain dates. (Last night was set up through the school and the synagogue, and all my classmates were required to attend) I have yet to find a place that I'd go out of my way to pray at, or a rabbi who I truly connect to besides the ones who work at HUC. It's just a very different environment here, and a different way of doing things.

I also think my initial experiences at the Western Wall had a psychological affect on my perception of prayer here in Israel. The fact that the wall felt so segregated, anti-feminist, and closed off to anyone non-Orthodox, coupled with its status as the holiest site in the world for Jews, probably set me off in some way. Feeling one hundred percent secure in my affiliation with Reform Judaism, I find it hard to connect to God in a place so clearly dominated by an Orthodox mindset.

My hope is to get past all this, because even as I write it and think it, I see it as trivial. Prayer comes from the heart and soul, and that's where my prayer has always come from. I think I've just been very lucky that the physical spaces and communities I've prayed in have been open, welcoming, and beautiful. But now I'm on unfamiliar, tense ground, praying in vastly different spaces. My prayer compass is out of whack, but I think it will get back on track. I want to learn to get past the external, and think I have the ability to do so here in Israel. Time will tell.

For now, I'm looking ahead to the Chagim. Rosh Hashanah begins in a little less than two weeks, and I could not possibly be more excited to celebrate it here in Jerusalem. I've always dreamed of being here during the High Holidays, and am so excited to experience the power and awesomeness of it all. I don't exactly know what to expect, but know that I'm praying with HUC in a beautiful physical space overlooking the Old City. I think it will be incredibly powerful and definitely interesting! I'm also really excited that my mother is coming in just a few short weeks. The thought of getting a Jill Fromer bear hug excites me to no end!

So Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem. Take care of yourselves, have an excellent weekend, and know that I am thinking of all of you from many miles away.

Lots of love,

Jaclyn