Hot Buttered Watermelon
Its Sunday night, day two of Sukkot and by the time we’re ready to head out for the conctert weve got a decent Teva contingency of 9 psyched and ready to head to the Hot Buttered Rum Concert in Woodstock New York. Estimates tell us it will take anywhere from 1 – 2 plus hours to get there; within 20 minutes, we have made a wrong turn on the winding country two lane roads and I already have doubts…
Never mind. We arrive before the bands on stage. As we follow the bends of roads names Zena, and Spackenkill, we wonder how the smoked out hippies ever found their way to Woodstock back in ’69. (without MapQUest, no less)
After a scarfed down bite of Chinese food, (When we asked the woman selling merchandise how much time we had, she responded “enough time to burn one, but I didn’t say that.” )
The venue is a refurbished barn. The bar and lounge out front are pretty swanky, in a way that a designger clearly felt would be “rustic.” But the band is recording the show and there is plenty of room to dance. The ceiling was lined with crepe paper lantern of various sizes and colors. We can get as close as we want to the stage – the room doesn’t feel empty, but the crowd was pretty small. Blue grass fills the air, and I take turns twirling with JD, Tali and Miriam. The songs aren’t ones we know, but they’re all good. We hope the second half will be more upbeat so we can dance even more.
I sit at the bar with Risa and enjoy a gin and tonic. Beside me is the lead singer, guitar player and I am tempted to tell him about the watermelon that Miriam had the brilliant idea of bringing along. (bait, she hopes, to lure the band to Freedman) Hey, if it worked for Baby with Patrick Swayze, I figure my chances can’t be worse. I approach the singer and tell him, frankly, that I carried a watermelon. I’m not sure if he got the reference, but another person standing by us did, so the conversation started naturally.
Suddenly, I found myself excitedly telling him about TEva, about Adamah and about the Jewish holiday of sukkot. How fired up was I? I found myself telling him in all seriousness, “You have to come dwell in our booth! It’s so cool – no need to play for us. We have lots of musicians, you can just sit back and take the night off. And we have veggie oil for your bus.” All pretty much true… and he seems into it. “Outdoor educators are our specialty,” he tells me. And then he asks me to present him with the watermelon on stage. He tells me to wait for the awkward pause and then to go ahead and bring out the watermelon. As far as visiting is concerned, he says that if we email him, they would definitely be interested in coming to Freedman the next time they’re out east.
I run to the car, and return, produce in hand, stopping at the ticket window to inscribe it with a request for my favorite song. Back in the barn, we dance a few tunes with the melon until the combination of peer pressure and a significant pause between songs convinces me it’s time to present my offering. I roll the melon onto stage and it lands perfectly at the singer’s feet. In one movement, he picks up the still-rolling melonandsends a shout out to our farm. Then, he says the melon will be enjoying the rest of the show from center stage. (We are all invited to partake after the show!)
At one point during the show, I yell out Adamah and another one of the band members comes out to pat the melon. And then, as the show is ending, I feel tingles when they tell us that the encore will be acoustic in the audience. They send off the watermelon to be cut, and then serenade the audience, now gathered, sitting at their feet. They play my request, in spite of the fact that I’d done a shoddy job writing on the rind. I am elated, and enjoy the sweetness of this particular fruit, not so much in the one bite that I get, but in the looks of the faces of the audience and the band as they enjoy the flesh, seeds dropping, juice dribbling, and beside me, four farmers proudly, modesty glowing in the simple reward of patience and hard hard work.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Paradise, Eden, or pretty damn close...
I remember coming here for Shabbat last year and falling in love - with the warmth, the singing, the way people here really took the time to appreciate each other and nature. And then I remember thinking - it's not real. Isabella Freedman could only be a dream world, an escape from reality for lost 20-somethings seeking to avoid society a little bit longer. I applied anyway, realizing that it was real, I had seen it, and that there was no reason life couldn't be that beautiful.
Accepted in July, I wondered how Teva could ever meet my expectations. Not every day is Shabbat, and life there couldn't possibly be all singing and deep thoughts and in prompto study sessions. Wrong again.
2 months in, I feel I have the authority to say: yes, this is real, and yes, we take time daily to sing, dance, listen, appreciate and notice.
This evening, I drove back from Great Barrington, Massachusetts with three friends. The drive was spectacular and we were mezmorized by the sunset that canopied us - a glance in any direction offered a unique and breathtaking smorgasboard of color, light and clouds, meeting the gentle peaks of the mountains along the horizon - all accentuated by the deep automn hues of a waning foliage season. Reaching a rise in the road, we jumped out of the car and began to sing. (Not, I must point out, an activity I could see myself joining in on in Stamford or NYC.) I was filled with gratitude that my friends were as excited as I was - we shared a moment of awe and appreciation for this quotidien act of nature - so normal , so predictable and yet fleeting and unique to today. As we drove into Isabella Freedman, we found that the rest of our community had been basking in that very same moment. Several other Tevaniks were outside by the lake and two of the farmers were walking up the hill to enjoy the site from an optimum position. A religious man and his wife, in town to visit friends, stood outside in silent wonder. TOnight, I spoke with another farmer who had pulled his car over to watch the event, just a few miles away.
Where else can it be that a group of people are so completely in tune with the earth, so eager and willing to take pause, to listen, to watch, to wonder - to try not to let any tiny miracle of nature slip b them unnoticed? The voice in my heart says - only in jerusalem.
What else makes this community so special? This morning, we were taught by a specialist in herbal medicinals. She taught us how to make medicine from the local plants and gave us acitvity ideas with the children. It was rpetty surreal to be talking with this adorable elderly woman about mushrooms, Indian hemp and our stomach aches. She knew it all - and told us of the feasts she has made from natural foods - chicken made from hen of the woods mushrooms and meatloaf comprised of acorn meat.
Last night, I somewhat reluctantly attended a woman's group in honor of the new moon. I was skeptical - thinking it was a hokey new age cry fest where we would complain about men or makeup. It turned out to be very beautiful, however, and I liked getting to know some of the women I live with even better. Since we spend most of our days outdoors, the moon (and its light) has a significant impact on our lives. Sad as we are feeling about the end of the Jewish holiday seasion (a sentiment I have never felt before), I've enjoyed realizing how much Judaism always find something to appreciate and dance about - new moons, full moons, friday nights... the constant celebrating is new to me, but I can't complain. Why not enjoy life this much?
It is real.
Tomorrow, my day will be filled with hikes, bike rides, and more tempting possibilities than time. Living with likeminded people, there is always something cool to do. I am still torn, however, when i think about the growth and perspective that can only be gained from living in really ddiverse settings. I miss the students at Waterside, and I miss the community. I miss learning about whole other cultures and religions, and being able to share mine as something new, special and unknown. Here, it is a given, it is simple, it is unquestioned. I don't take that for granted at all, but I wonder if this is a bubble that I can be content in long term. (I wonder in a very calm, go with the flow way, of course... I wouldn't dream of stressing about this sort of life decision!)
The jewish holidays were amazing - on sukkot, we had about 70 peole here at Brown house and sang and danced around a campfire and on stage. A few of us decided at midnight to go on a hike - (where else can I con 4 people into hiking a mile and a half and sleeping on a cold ledge at midnight?!!!) Last week, I successfully completed the largest corn maze in the east - and we did it without a flashlight in the middle of the night! Simchat Torah, a celebration for completing the reading of the Old Testament - took place (for me) in NYC. I met up with a friend from Israel for dinner and got to meet some very interesting and inspiring rabbinical students. Then, we danced until all hours, and when most people had left BJ on the upper west side, the crowd that remained was mostly people from up here. We kept the party going even in NYC - spreading our light and spirit 100 miles from our homebase. Later, we were invited to a rooftop party. 30 or more Jews sat on the roof eating lasagna and fondu, singing, dancing and smoking from a nargila - with the NYC skyline in place of our usual backdrop of trees, lake and peaks.
The future? It's weird to even think of. I am so happily absorbed in daily life here that planning beyond lunch tomorrow seems unnecessary. I have found out about an outward bound class for educators that I would really like to do before heading back to Israel. We'll see. There's Hazon and Livnot as well, and my friend Eli wants me to teach outdoor education to children with serious drug and alcohol problems in Utah. I am blessed with choices, and none of them can be wrong...
I remember coming here for Shabbat last year and falling in love - with the warmth, the singing, the way people here really took the time to appreciate each other and nature. And then I remember thinking - it's not real. Isabella Freedman could only be a dream world, an escape from reality for lost 20-somethings seeking to avoid society a little bit longer. I applied anyway, realizing that it was real, I had seen it, and that there was no reason life couldn't be that beautiful.
Accepted in July, I wondered how Teva could ever meet my expectations. Not every day is Shabbat, and life there couldn't possibly be all singing and deep thoughts and in prompto study sessions. Wrong again.
2 months in, I feel I have the authority to say: yes, this is real, and yes, we take time daily to sing, dance, listen, appreciate and notice.
This evening, I drove back from Great Barrington, Massachusetts with three friends. The drive was spectacular and we were mezmorized by the sunset that canopied us - a glance in any direction offered a unique and breathtaking smorgasboard of color, light and clouds, meeting the gentle peaks of the mountains along the horizon - all accentuated by the deep automn hues of a waning foliage season. Reaching a rise in the road, we jumped out of the car and began to sing. (Not, I must point out, an activity I could see myself joining in on in Stamford or NYC.) I was filled with gratitude that my friends were as excited as I was - we shared a moment of awe and appreciation for this quotidien act of nature - so normal , so predictable and yet fleeting and unique to today. As we drove into Isabella Freedman, we found that the rest of our community had been basking in that very same moment. Several other Tevaniks were outside by the lake and two of the farmers were walking up the hill to enjoy the site from an optimum position. A religious man and his wife, in town to visit friends, stood outside in silent wonder. TOnight, I spoke with another farmer who had pulled his car over to watch the event, just a few miles away.
Where else can it be that a group of people are so completely in tune with the earth, so eager and willing to take pause, to listen, to watch, to wonder - to try not to let any tiny miracle of nature slip b them unnoticed? The voice in my heart says - only in jerusalem.
What else makes this community so special? This morning, we were taught by a specialist in herbal medicinals. She taught us how to make medicine from the local plants and gave us acitvity ideas with the children. It was rpetty surreal to be talking with this adorable elderly woman about mushrooms, Indian hemp and our stomach aches. She knew it all - and told us of the feasts she has made from natural foods - chicken made from hen of the woods mushrooms and meatloaf comprised of acorn meat.
Last night, I somewhat reluctantly attended a woman's group in honor of the new moon. I was skeptical - thinking it was a hokey new age cry fest where we would complain about men or makeup. It turned out to be very beautiful, however, and I liked getting to know some of the women I live with even better. Since we spend most of our days outdoors, the moon (and its light) has a significant impact on our lives. Sad as we are feeling about the end of the Jewish holiday seasion (a sentiment I have never felt before), I've enjoyed realizing how much Judaism always find something to appreciate and dance about - new moons, full moons, friday nights... the constant celebrating is new to me, but I can't complain. Why not enjoy life this much?
It is real.
Tomorrow, my day will be filled with hikes, bike rides, and more tempting possibilities than time. Living with likeminded people, there is always something cool to do. I am still torn, however, when i think about the growth and perspective that can only be gained from living in really ddiverse settings. I miss the students at Waterside, and I miss the community. I miss learning about whole other cultures and religions, and being able to share mine as something new, special and unknown. Here, it is a given, it is simple, it is unquestioned. I don't take that for granted at all, but I wonder if this is a bubble that I can be content in long term. (I wonder in a very calm, go with the flow way, of course... I wouldn't dream of stressing about this sort of life decision!)
The jewish holidays were amazing - on sukkot, we had about 70 peole here at Brown house and sang and danced around a campfire and on stage. A few of us decided at midnight to go on a hike - (where else can I con 4 people into hiking a mile and a half and sleeping on a cold ledge at midnight?!!!) Last week, I successfully completed the largest corn maze in the east - and we did it without a flashlight in the middle of the night! Simchat Torah, a celebration for completing the reading of the Old Testament - took place (for me) in NYC. I met up with a friend from Israel for dinner and got to meet some very interesting and inspiring rabbinical students. Then, we danced until all hours, and when most people had left BJ on the upper west side, the crowd that remained was mostly people from up here. We kept the party going even in NYC - spreading our light and spirit 100 miles from our homebase. Later, we were invited to a rooftop party. 30 or more Jews sat on the roof eating lasagna and fondu, singing, dancing and smoking from a nargila - with the NYC skyline in place of our usual backdrop of trees, lake and peaks.
The future? It's weird to even think of. I am so happily absorbed in daily life here that planning beyond lunch tomorrow seems unnecessary. I have found out about an outward bound class for educators that I would really like to do before heading back to Israel. We'll see. There's Hazon and Livnot as well, and my friend Eli wants me to teach outdoor education to children with serious drug and alcohol problems in Utah. I am blessed with choices, and none of them can be wrong...
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Silent Sabbaths and Sukkah...
Sometimes, in a fit of panic, I wonder if I've joined some Jewish cult, if I'm being brainwashed into this world of environmentalism, spirituality and hyper-awareness. But maybe it's just the fact that it's been awhile since I've been around this many Jews, and that it's even more unusual for me to find mysef surrounded by a tight-knit, intentional community with whom I share so many core values. While I have started to feel slightly suffocated at times, for the most part I consider myself incredibly lucky to be in a place where I feel I can really learn and be challenged by everyone around me, and where daily I have brand new expereinces and revelations. One of the things I love most here is that we seem to take nothing for granted here. There is a strong sense of appreciation here - for everything from the good food and the moon at night to the annoying gnats that somehow play a role in the eco-system and make it all work out.
So, surrounded by opportunities to learn more about Judaism, and especially about the renewal crowd, (Eilat Chayyim, a spiritual retreat center just merged with Isabella Freedman) I have tried to delve into things as much as possible and set my judgements aside....
This weekend, Eilat Chayyim offered a pre-yom kippur silent shababt. I'd been tempted and terrified by the idea of a silent retreat ever since Cora first mentioned it to me last January. In Israel, I had tried to arrange to attend one along the Dead Sea, but the timing never worked out and those retreats were 10 days long. here, in the comfort of my own community, for a mere 36 hours, was a chance to do the totally antithetical thing for Rachel. To shut up, to listen, to not communicate with others in any way. And I really really enjoyed it.
Whoa.
When we entered the orientation, we recieved an "angel card," a slip of paper printed with a single word - the word which would dictate the feeling and spirit of our weekend.
My bright blue card read: Obedience. After a summer of considering the merits of discipline, this seemed appropriate, although daunting.
The basic structure of the meditation was what our facilatator, Jeff, called the "pressure-packed" method. Rather than urging us to clear our thoughts through "vacuum packing" or clearning all thoughts from our mind, he gave us so much to concetrate pn that ideally, no room would be left for errant mind wanderings.
For the next 36 hours, while eating, walking, falling asleep, brushing our teeth, etc...we uttered these four phrases:
May ___________ be blessed with peace.
May ___________ be blessed with joy.
May ___________ be blessed with lovingkindness.
May ___________ be blessed with compassion.
AT first, we filled in the blank with an easy person, a "benefactor." next, we did ourselves our family and then out larger community. By the end of the weekend, the goal was to have us bleesing (silently and repetedly in our heads) everyone from our best friend's godmother, to the guy who hit out fender last week and Osama Bin Ladin. Spread the love, offer blessings- a potentially powerful experience, but I spent so much time trying to remember the order of the four blessings that my mind truly did stay on track. the thought that distracted by the most was a feeling of sincerely and very reallly missing my fmaily. AS soon as sun set on Shabbat, I drove to Kings Park. Admittedly, I kept saying the mantras during the ride, and even blessed the gas station attendant and a guy who helped me with directions salong the way. "May that dude by blessed with peace," I began.
It seems as though I should ahve been bored. We say in the round yurt on back jacks and pillows, cozied up to the fire place and repeated (silently) the phrases fo hours. "Services" consisted of a few short blessings, repeated over and over again for several minutes, first aloud and then in out minds. For the Torah service, we could choose to go up for the aliyot whose subject matter called to us.
So, what's my final analysis? I loved the silent part and the clarity and calmness it offered. I wore no watch and felt free from the normal constraints of time and to do lists. I had time to think, even if it was only about four phrases! Overall, I had more difficulty with the experience as a Jewish one. I am supportive of the renewal movement in that I feel it offers a Judaism that is palatable and desirable to many people who would otherwise be unaffiliated. At the same time, I fear that in focusing on the oneness, on the mediation and on the practices that Judaism shares with more trendy religious practices like BUddhism and Kabbalah, I worry that the more traditional and equally important aspects of Judaism are being overlooked, forgotten and replaces by the more enticing elements.
Sukkot later. I've got to get to sleep. To make a long story short, we started our sukkah today and spent the night building it with the Adamah and Eilat Chayyim members of our community. We painted the totempole like support poles and had a drum circle, free style singing, rapping and dancing, and a series of fire spinners. As the partying continues, I still feel like the cops are going to come any minutes, until I remember how we live in the outskirts of Falls Village and that the directors of the site are out there spinning fire, dancing, and painting along with us.
This place is unlike any other, and I am so glad to be able to see it, feel and learn from it. If living in this tight - knit of a community poses challenges, as it ineveitable will, I will only be stronger for it.
Sometimes, in a fit of panic, I wonder if I've joined some Jewish cult, if I'm being brainwashed into this world of environmentalism, spirituality and hyper-awareness. But maybe it's just the fact that it's been awhile since I've been around this many Jews, and that it's even more unusual for me to find mysef surrounded by a tight-knit, intentional community with whom I share so many core values. While I have started to feel slightly suffocated at times, for the most part I consider myself incredibly lucky to be in a place where I feel I can really learn and be challenged by everyone around me, and where daily I have brand new expereinces and revelations. One of the things I love most here is that we seem to take nothing for granted here. There is a strong sense of appreciation here - for everything from the good food and the moon at night to the annoying gnats that somehow play a role in the eco-system and make it all work out.
So, surrounded by opportunities to learn more about Judaism, and especially about the renewal crowd, (Eilat Chayyim, a spiritual retreat center just merged with Isabella Freedman) I have tried to delve into things as much as possible and set my judgements aside....
This weekend, Eilat Chayyim offered a pre-yom kippur silent shababt. I'd been tempted and terrified by the idea of a silent retreat ever since Cora first mentioned it to me last January. In Israel, I had tried to arrange to attend one along the Dead Sea, but the timing never worked out and those retreats were 10 days long. here, in the comfort of my own community, for a mere 36 hours, was a chance to do the totally antithetical thing for Rachel. To shut up, to listen, to not communicate with others in any way. And I really really enjoyed it.
Whoa.
When we entered the orientation, we recieved an "angel card," a slip of paper printed with a single word - the word which would dictate the feeling and spirit of our weekend.
My bright blue card read: Obedience. After a summer of considering the merits of discipline, this seemed appropriate, although daunting.
The basic structure of the meditation was what our facilatator, Jeff, called the "pressure-packed" method. Rather than urging us to clear our thoughts through "vacuum packing" or clearning all thoughts from our mind, he gave us so much to concetrate pn that ideally, no room would be left for errant mind wanderings.
For the next 36 hours, while eating, walking, falling asleep, brushing our teeth, etc...we uttered these four phrases:
May ___________ be blessed with peace.
May ___________ be blessed with joy.
May ___________ be blessed with lovingkindness.
May ___________ be blessed with compassion.
AT first, we filled in the blank with an easy person, a "benefactor." next, we did ourselves our family and then out larger community. By the end of the weekend, the goal was to have us bleesing (silently and repetedly in our heads) everyone from our best friend's godmother, to the guy who hit out fender last week and Osama Bin Ladin. Spread the love, offer blessings- a potentially powerful experience, but I spent so much time trying to remember the order of the four blessings that my mind truly did stay on track. the thought that distracted by the most was a feeling of sincerely and very reallly missing my fmaily. AS soon as sun set on Shabbat, I drove to Kings Park. Admittedly, I kept saying the mantras during the ride, and even blessed the gas station attendant and a guy who helped me with directions salong the way. "May that dude by blessed with peace," I began.
It seems as though I should ahve been bored. We say in the round yurt on back jacks and pillows, cozied up to the fire place and repeated (silently) the phrases fo hours. "Services" consisted of a few short blessings, repeated over and over again for several minutes, first aloud and then in out minds. For the Torah service, we could choose to go up for the aliyot whose subject matter called to us.
So, what's my final analysis? I loved the silent part and the clarity and calmness it offered. I wore no watch and felt free from the normal constraints of time and to do lists. I had time to think, even if it was only about four phrases! Overall, I had more difficulty with the experience as a Jewish one. I am supportive of the renewal movement in that I feel it offers a Judaism that is palatable and desirable to many people who would otherwise be unaffiliated. At the same time, I fear that in focusing on the oneness, on the mediation and on the practices that Judaism shares with more trendy religious practices like BUddhism and Kabbalah, I worry that the more traditional and equally important aspects of Judaism are being overlooked, forgotten and replaces by the more enticing elements.
Sukkot later. I've got to get to sleep. To make a long story short, we started our sukkah today and spent the night building it with the Adamah and Eilat Chayyim members of our community. We painted the totempole like support poles and had a drum circle, free style singing, rapping and dancing, and a series of fire spinners. As the partying continues, I still feel like the cops are going to come any minutes, until I remember how we live in the outskirts of Falls Village and that the directors of the site are out there spinning fire, dancing, and painting along with us.
This place is unlike any other, and I am so glad to be able to see it, feel and learn from it. If living in this tight - knit of a community poses challenges, as it ineveitable will, I will only be stronger for it.
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