Mindfulness Practice for When Things Fall Apart
Although this piece takes off from a particular commemoration in the Jewish calendar, I am certain that the lessons are universal. This article was published in a collection honoring the retirement of my meditation teacher, Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg. Tisha B’av is what’s considered a minor holiday, and a day of mourning. YET — because it’s about breakdown & restoration, and brokenness and renewal, the learnings can be applied to many situations in our lives, no matter what your spiritual practice. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
It usually happens in August. We are still in high summer mode, yet on the periphery of our consciousness, we are aware that summer is waning. The light is changing, the days are getting shorter. And then, like an intrusion comes Tisha B’av.
This “holiday” commemorates the utter destruction of the 1st and 2nd temples in Jerusalem so many years ago. In the riotous bloom that is summer, we are called to remember destruction and breakdown.
We gather with other Jews and chant a soulful melody from the book of Lamentations written by the prophet Jeremiah. He begins: Eichah? How has this happened? It’s an echo that reverberates back to the Garden of End, when God calls out to Adam and Eve, Ayecka (Where are you?)
We are being called to wake up.
Whether we are ready or not, we begin to awaken, for we must. Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year) is seven weeks away. Tisha B’av marks the moment that we begin to turn.
Teshuvah (which means “to turn”) is the soul work we are required to do before we stand as one community and confess our individual and collective brokenness. And the time is upon us to begin.
On Tisha B’Av, we recount the cataclysmic trauma of our people when everything changed. Our Temple was our primary way in the ancient world of connecting with the Divine Mystery via sacrifice and the Temple represented all that was solid and stable.
It was destroyed. The walls fell.
We were exiled and dispersed.
And then, a miracle happened. Amidst this despair, our wise and creative rabbis decided to build something new: a Judaism of the heart.
A religion of the heart, they reasoned, could not be destroyed like a physical building.
This shred of an idea, born in sorrow and grief, changed Judaism forever. Out of death came a rebirth of Judaism that has sustained us until today.
When we recount the story of Tisha B’av, we can’t help but turn to the brokenness of our own lives.
On Tisha B’av we are confronted with the reality that sometimes what seems so solid and everlasting in our own lives, can shatter and break.
In mindfulness practice, we learn that we must be present wherever we are. When we are broken, we breathe into that brokenness, feeling that fully.
We bring curiosity to our pain to get to know the landscape. And we practice “staying”…breath after breath…
And then, because this is the nature of life, if we keep noticing, there’s a shift, a change, perhaps you might say, a miracle.
The pain that seems like it will never recede begins to turn.
A process mirrored in our very own breath.
A mindfulness practice for the Days of Awe:
Sit quietly.
Let yourself settle.
Feel your body solidly in your seat.
Root yourself to the ground beneath.
Begin to notice the rising and falling of your breath.
Receive each breath as a gift,
Then let it fall away.
Breathe in a fresh breath of restoration and healing,
Breathe out and let go, let it crumble and fall.
May this practice help ground us in our soul work as we turn, once again, from the old to the new.
I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts — in the comments.
I wrote this piece in honor of Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg. From her leadership in my cohort of The Institute for Jewish Spirituality’s Rabbinic Leadership program to teaching me in Jewish Meditation Teacher Training, she has taught me to live my truth. What I love most about her is her profound kindness, her humility and her laughter.
rabbijillz@gmail.com www.ravjill.com
