Yesterday, during Yom Kippur services, we were asked to close our eyes and listen. Let me set the scene a bit more specifically: at 4:48pm, a bunch of adults many of whom had not eaten since the night before and many of us who had been there since 8:45 in the morning, were asked to sit in our comfy chairs in a big, beautiful, dimly lit room of sanctuary and we were asked to close our eyes. As you might imagine, this group of ours gratefully did as instructed, and for many of us, that was the last directive we heard before sleep ensued.
I am no stranger to the sleep meditation. I love it. That ethereal feeling, being deeply restful and straddling both sides of sleep and wakefulness. I too was in and out, as my dear husband the rabbi stood powerfully on the Bimah, using the best of his story telling expertise to guide us through the story of Jonah, this very reluctant prophet as he is dubbed. Johan was given a big ole task to complete. One that he feared and questioned and tried to reject. I began thinking of my daily tasks, the ones I am reluctant to jump into, the ones I want to reject, the ones that feel to me some days, insurmountable. The simple ones even, the “waking up way too early to make breakfasts and drive carpools without loosing my patience” kinds of tasks. And these are for people I love and even helped to create, not like the strangers our reluctant friend Jonah is asked to guide.
And then, back to the vibrant and calming energy of the room. The dark haired pianist lovingly supported my husband’s telling with his own musical telling. Then, came the clear voice of Ryan Weiss, a meditation teacher and life coach, former Broadway babe and long time friend. I could not honestly re-tell every moment or word, but one image he crafted stood out to me, and continues to stand even this morning after. We, like Jonah, are all in the Big Belly of this metaphoric Whale. With the safety maybe that it can bring, but the gunk and the danger and all the darkness too. I think as a child I thought you work hard, become and adult , and then sorta live happily ever after. I really was not prepared for all this hanging out in the discomfort of this big belly of any whale. It has been, and continues to be, quite an active process of gaining endurance for this discomfort.
Ryan suggested, like many other mindfulness teachers, that these things we are most uncomfortable with, the situations we most want to avoid, are those very opportunities for healing. A healing of your emotional curriculum. I got the opportunity to meet that again as I drove my two beauties home from a delicious break-fast. Very much past bed times and very spent, these two people got in a heated and unexpected discussion of how they treat each other. As their volume and intensity rose, my desire to dash out of the car rose too. But I thought of the big messy belly we were all sharing, and tried a new tactic. Just one of observation. I said nothing, and let them continue.
Later, my little one asked me if their “discussion” had bummed me out, as I seemed quiet. As I was searching for words, she interjected, “Maybe you’re not bummed, but it was just hard, right?”
Exactly right. Sometimes staying with it, is just hard.
I hope you all come tomorrow to our 8:15 am morning practice, reluctant or joyful, whatever is your state. We will work with it all.
In peace
Michelle
