30 September 2006 (Saturday)
disbelief
From this week's PostSecret:
Yom Kippur is an interesting time to contemplate this image and its associated (non)believer. We like to think we will pass through the Ten Days of Repentance with a sense of awe and reverence and emerge after Yom Kippur with a profound understanding of ourselves and the world. Or, at least, some level of preparation for and acceptance of Divine judgment (whatever that may mean in your eyes). I'm not sure I've ever succeeded in making it through this time of year quite like that. Most years, though, I've at least managed to feel a sense of humility by the onset of Yom Kippur, admiration of the structure and poetry of the liturgy, and a joyous relief at the single long note on the shofar at the end of the fast.
With less than a day to go, I jsut don't think it's going to happen this year. I'm angry and confused and probably not for the reasons most of you think. I'm trying to view my expected confinement to bed on Monday as an opportunity to commune with (er...yell at) God on a more personal level, rather than having to focus on the longer prayers and piyutim lead by the chazzan. But instead I am wondering how I'll cope without the structure, and with all those hours of quiet contemplation. Contemplation in general, I can handle. But not alone. I'm afraid that the anger and frustration will only build while I'm alone, and if I even manage to make it to shul for Ne'ilah Monday evening, hearing the shofar will be no relief after a full day of lonely self-torture.
On a more positive note - and I think I've said this before - I am somewhat grateful that I'm angry at God. You can't be angry at something that you don't think exists, and I don't think I could handle being an atheist just now.
Tell me: What do you pretend to believe? What do you know now? And just how did it used to be?
http://www.thisnormallife.com/blog
Try reading this post "When Words Fail"
I can relate to it; maybe you will too.
gamar chatima tova
I haven't been in shul for Yom Kippur services in about 10 years. And I can say that my overwhelming feeling every year is nausea, a headache, dizziness, (all from not eating, of course) and the realization that I am so not prepared spiritually at all for Yom Kippur, again.
This year, I didn't even feel up to davening at all -- I was reading (inspirational true stories) in the morning, and then was planning to daven, but when I stood up, I felt dizzy, so I gave up and went back to bed (right after the kids had lunch) instead, leaving an 8 yr old and a 9 yr old sort of in charge of all the others.
Oh, and I haven't said tashlich yet. (I still don't "get" why it's okay to say that after Yom Kippur, but my husband insists I have until Hoshanah Rabbah... hopefully it will actually happen before that this year!)
Anyway, I hoped you survived better than I did. At least our sukkah is up! (walls on Sunday, s'chach last night)
Hi Shanna,
Thanks for posting this. I can't/won't/choose not to write about what I used to believe and no longer believe, ad what I pretend to believe, but I think the questions are all good ones for us to think about in our heads, at least.
Shana tova!
A friend of mine was also "confined" to home for YK. She put together what sounds like a wonderful schedule for herself, but she's a meditator. I don't meditate, so I don't think her schedule would have worked for me. I'm still waiting to hear how it went.
A friend of my husband's, a Chabad rabbi, always says that he's glad to hear when someone is angry at G-d. It means you have at least some relationship with G-d, because we never get *truly* angry with anyone we don't care about. Why waste all that energy? And if you're angy with G-d, your relationship is probably more honest and deeper than if you were la-la happy with Him all the time.
I hope you managed to have a non-stressful, non-aggravating YK, and maybe found some meaning in what can be a difficult day for all different reasons.
I can't even begin to answer your questions. but I hope you made it through ok. I remember YK alone in the hospital with a new baby was very lonely. but it's all for a very good cause.
oh, and I liked the anonymous email response to this on postsecret:
"There's a reason we're called "yisrael" as a
people. It means "struggle with God.""
Be aware that the purpose nowadays for the Chazon's repetition is for those that are "in the fields", meaning those that are unable to attend davening for any reason. That being the case, the greatest Chazon that you can think of, whoever it may be, was davening specifically for you. You are luckier than most who attended services.
