The Other Kind Of Pesach Preparation
I've come to learn over the years that Pesach works best for me if I set spiritual goals. All the chagim work that way, but I find that Pesach is the best for actually acting out a process to meet those goals. For most holidays, I know what the day is about, but then we just eat a lot, show up in shul and read certain sections from Tanakh there. That unfortunately leaves plenty of room for disconnect. At Pesach, we gather at the table with a long set of things to do and lots of time to talk during it about the process... mandated dialogue as well as our own speech.
I listened this year to a live class on the phone from Simon Jacobson. At the end he spoke about the seder as a 15-part process towards transformation or freedom. On the call he talked a lot about materialism vs. spirituality. I have trouble thinking in those particular phrases because on the surface it seems like just the question of acquiring stuff vs. thinking about G-d. But I think materialism also stands for anything that comes in the way of our loftier goals.
The past two years, leadership has been a major theme of my life. I've found myself in formal and informal leadership positions and have been uncertain of how to frame my work towards these ends in effective ways. This includes leadership within my 2nd Grade team at work, within two committees at school on which I serve, within trying to bring environmental consciousness to my communities at school at shul and towards helping children and adults both be in-tune with their inner selves. I've met some goals within these realms and failed miserably at others.
One thing in particular came up recently. At school, someone with whom I work closely did something that was not OK. I found myself worrying about whether to speak about it to her and how. The realization that I needed to speak would be a spiritual realization, because I realized the obligation to do it in order to stand for what was right. The fear would be material, because it was about putting my ego at risk.
In the end, I did it, and it was a successful and meaningful (although uncomfortable) conversation. During our talk it came out that this person looks to me for guidance in many ways and that I had been modeling some things poorly.
By the end of the day I felt so proud for speaking up, and so enlightened of the power of things I do -- both good and bad -- without thinking about them. I really want to think, this year, about how and when to lead.
It's not easy. I don't want to offend people by being "bossy" and at the same time I can and want to make a difference. Just the other day I was eating in the staff room and remarked that I hadn't had a lunch that I didn't work through for 2 weeks. She said, "but you're the one who taught me never to do that... to always take a break to get you through the day." Once again, I was a teacher and didn't know it.
And when ND and I walked to shul recently, we left the stroller at home. Someone passed us and said, "you're so patient." My response: "This is our time together." Will she remember that? Will that help her be patient and available to a child too?
When Hashem approaches Moshe to lead, Moshe says, "but I stutter." Have I missed opportunities by worrying that I too have a metaphorical stutter? I want to take this to heart as I go into the chag to see how I can let go of some fear and find other meaningful and heartfelt ways to reach out to others in the coming year.
Chag sameach.
Labels: activism, children, family, holidays, Judaism, living here, meditation, parenthood, rituals
1 Comments:
I had a conversation with a friend visiting from Boulder over the first chag, about what she calls "spiritual materialism" (you know, the tendency to be excessively proud and protective of one's own spiritual advancement). Spirituality and materialism are often taken to be opposing poles but I don't think they're mutually exclusive at all. How not? Well, maybe it's like conservatism and progressivism: either emphasis can help to focus one's thinking or a conversation, but when taken to extremes of superficiality they become distorting and kind of interchangeably stupid. Growing up in the '80s, when materialism was king (thanks to last night's "Howard the Duck" and "Die Hard" double bill for reminding me), I was taught to shun materialism and seek spirituality. But there is real truth in materialism -- actually I'd say acknowledging so is one of Judaism's great strengths as a religious culture -- it's just that if you try to build a whole life, or society, on any single insight, you wind up weak (not to mention simpleminded) and, worse, I suspect that compassion suffers. (Why would compassion be impacted? Hmm... Maybe it's because of possessiveness, getting caught up in personal accumulation? Maybe what we think of as bad in materialism is actually just consumerism. Maybe "spiritual materialism" should be named "spiritual consumerism...")
But about leadership. I am struggling with this. Three years ago I started building this thing called the Ravenna Kibbutz because I wanted a community to live in. Now it's an "organization" and I am its "leader." And part of me is okay with that. Some days I find it very rewarding. But a lot of the time I feel like Moshe -- only, no, Moshe had something I don't, which is very explicit feedback (from G-d), whereas I am terrified that I (a) don't know what the hell I'm doing trying to be a leader or role model or (G-d help us) manager, and, worse, (b) I have no one to tell me what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. I can only guess based on results. So I've been wondering whether I should get an MBA or MPA, which should at least help with the management skills; but really what I want is a mentor, someone who is extremely wise and good at being in this role I'm stumbling into, so I won't have to figure it all out by trial and error.
1:45 PM
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