Missing Shabbat

I was in the middle of showing property last night and I had a pause. Tonight it doesn’t look like I will be at the Shabbas service, anywhere. I went over the times they begin and the length of them and I realized I was not going to make any of them. This is the first Friday night in a year that I missed either a specific meeting of my people or the Shabbas. It was noted.

I looked inside and myself. What did I feel, was there emotion? Was there a regret? Was I experiencing that I was really missing something important to me? Was there a gap in myself of a care for something that really meant something to me?

I had to be honest with myself at that point and notice there is not. Right now the only thing that I can admit to is that I had thoughts of the Shabbas, memories from Shabbases I went to in the past, the lighting of the candles, the meals, the prayers, the Shabbas Bride concept. I did not have much more than that but listen, it is a developing growing thing inside of me. The life I lived prior was consumed with chasing the boys and getting what I wanted out of life to satisfy this ugliness inside of me. It filled the life inside of me that grabs and takes and couldn’t care less about you. Today I am looking for a higher purpose and I am going to the rituals that were passed down to me from generation to generation and I am liking what I find. I am learning the whys and wherefores and they are rich with bounty and meaning. It’s like I don’t have to find meaning in my own personal life, now I see there is meaning for a people, a herd. I am apart of that and it has a great reward for me. I am at the threshold of discovering the herd meaning and I like what I am finding.

So missing the Shabbat service last night was not a trauma or a tragedy. It did carry it’s own pain though. I am beginning to fall in love with my Jewy. My Jewy. The me that I left by the roadside in the rain and cold who is being splashed by cars that drive by and trash thrown on it by passers by, who was neglected and cast off. My Jewy. The me who was alone. I hate the aloneness now. I am for the first time desiring to be with my Jewy people. Just to be with them and see what they are up to. What they have been up to for my whole 64 years. Whats chu been up to? That is pretty much my approach. And when I say — hi guys, can I come with you? The answer is always yes and more and more than that. It’s yes and come and stay and enjoy and participate and come back and we missed you and we notice you and we want you with us and don’t ever go away unless you must because we understand. We understand this is a hard life, this Jewy life. It’s hard to have a life that is not all about you. It’s not to be selfish and selfserving. That’s hard. We know you ran for the hills days ago but we see you are staying. We like it that you are staying. Please, we want you to stay.