Nisan 5784 (April 8, 2024)

Chodesh Tov, Happy Nisan!

My Torah for Nisan:


As we move into Nisan and springtime, I can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by all the changes happening around me. Not only is it one of the Hebrew calendar's new years, there are also a lot of people around me at transitional points in life. My sibling Maya just got engaged to their partner Finn — who I love. They've been together since high school, but still, it marks a change in my family's dynamics. My partner LeBron (along with our dogs Pepper and Oreo) just moved from Chattanooga to Sacramento — across four time zones. The classmates I started school with are about to finish the Mekhinah year, and many of the more advanced students who have made RRC feel like home for me are graduating or moving for advanced internship placements. It's a lot to keep track of. Honestly, I can't help but feel a bit left behind, as I'm left grappling with the feeling that my progress isn't as tangible. 


The universe seems to be mirroring my feelings of insignificance, through both the solar eclipse today and the earthquake last week. Despite our modern understanding of these natural phenomena as predictable and understandable scientific events, they used to be great mysteries. Our ancient ancestors viewed them with fear and superstition, believing that they were bad omens.


Even now with all of the scientific knowledge we've gained, I felt a primal sense of forboding in advance of the eclipse. Events such as these serve as humbling reminders of our place in the cosmos, where even the most seemingly chaotic events are governed by immutable laws of nature that we have no control over. I am trying to find the unity and awe in these experiences of the universe's grandeur, rather than only chaos.


Between the tumultuous changes in my life and the natural phenomena around me, I'm thinking about how our ancient ancestors navigated upheaval. The splitting of the sea — a truly remarkable event if we choose to believe in it — resonates with me a little extra this year. I imagine the Israelites standing at the shore, witnessing the waters part before them. It must have been a moment of sheer disbelief, a suspension of the laws of nature that defied comprehension — much like an eclipse or earthquake.


Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a profound sense of purpose. Just as the Israelites journeyed from slavery to freedom, so too do we navigate our own paths of liberation and transformation. The splitting of the sea becomes a symbol of the miraculous possibilities that emerge from the depths of chaos.


Like the Israelites, we are called to trust in the unseen forces guiding our journey, even when the waters seem insurmountable. Just as they found courage to step forward into the unknown, so too can we embrace the uncertainty of change with faith and resilience.


Pesach is a celebration of our ancestors' chaotic new beginning, but this year I'm experiencing it as a grounding force. For the past two years, I spent Pesach at Vanderbilt Hillel (which was fantastic, both in terms of skill-building and community leadership), but this year marks a return to how I spent Pesach growing up. I'll be spending two seders with two different groups of family, both of which I'll have the pleasure of introducing LeBron to. I'll also be spending some of the week with my new communities at RRC and Society Hill Synagogue.


There's real power in tradition and connection, especially during times of change. Pesach is not just about the retelling of our ancestors' holy origin story, but also about coming together in community; sharing meals and passing down our heritage to the next generation. I'm holding onto the hope that these moments of togetherness will provide me with stability and comfort, even as we continue to marvel at the world around us.


Chodesh Tov — a good month to all.

Adar II in Review:

My updates from Adar II:

COMING THIS MONTH:
Counting the Omer, Taylor's Version

Join me at @JewishSwiftie on Facebook or Instagram, and on Ritualwell, for daily insights into the Omer journey! From Pesach to Shavuot, we embark on a 49-day journey from liberation to revelation, symbolized by the splitting of the sea and the giving of the Torah. Each day presents an opportunity for introspection and personal development, guided by the Kabbalistic attributes assigned to the weeks and days.


Last year, inspired by Taylor Swift's Eras tour, I found a new way to engage with this tradition, blending it with my love for Taylor's music. Through "Taylor's Version" of counting the Omer, I used the contemporary resonance in her lyrics to reflect themes of love, resilience, and growth, mirroring the journey of personal development during the Omer period.


As we count each day, let's draw inspiration from both ancient traditions and modern artistry, cultivating qualities of introspection and connection with the world around us. Join us as we infuse our spiritual journey with the empowering melodies of Taylor's music, playing life "good and right," and may this year's Omer counting be a time of growth, reflection, and renewal for us all.

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