Sunday, September 10, 2023

Liturgy is My Jam!

I became a Religious Studies/Theatre major in college because of one reason: I love to create sacred space. I studied religion because I wanted to understand how people made sense of their world. What were their guideposts/guiding lights? And I have always loved theatre because it felt like everything was theatre (here would be the perfect spot for a Shakespeare quote - not gonna do it - you know what it is!) The magic was when you put the two together.

In another post I will go through the four pieces of theatre that I have had some involvment with and why they are liturgies. But now I want to talk about liturgy and how I create it.

I was a very religious child. I went to Catholic School. I was raised in the Baptist Church where I chose to "give myself to Christ" at seven years old and almost on a cloud walked to the front of the church when the "doors were open to join the church." I was baptized with a full immersion at seven. I floated through every nature religion looking for a way to be in tune with G*d's creations. I was in a coven. I received the first level toward full priesthood in Lukumi, my elekes. And ultimately I converted to Judaism which is where my heart had been ever since I was a young girl reading and watching the Hasidim walk to shul on Saturday mornings while I sat in the window seat in my Grandmother's Brooklyn brownstone.

I searched for Hashem through so many different avenues because I had not found a home for my Judaism. At the age of forty-one I walked into a shul on the Upper West Side of New York City with other members of my Interfaith/Interspiritual Seminary. It had everything. The singing and movement of my Baptist upbringing. The set liturgy of Catholicism, the recognition of the Mother of life, in the form of Shekinah and a beautiful and purposeful message from the Rabbi with the Torah, jokes and pop culture references that were right within my age of understanding. I got the jokes! It would be another five years before I became a member of this shul and then another three years before I converteted. I had to be sure!

I loved studying, I had wanted to be Yentl since I saw the movie.It took me so long to convert because I never thought I knew enough. School had finite endings. You graduate and then you move on. But this was different. I could study and study and study before I set a date for my trip to the mikveh for my conversion. I only decided to schedule my conversion when my teaching Rabbi said: "There will always be more to learn. Growing in Judaism doesn't stop after the mikveh". That made sense to me. I continued to study and create ritual long after graduate schools, so why would Judaism be different.

While at the University of Iowa I studied Directing for the Stage. Every show was a chance to create sacred space. We had a set, lighting, costumes, actors. As a Director I got to decide how everything looked, sounded and who said the words. It was creating worship in a different way every time. I worked with living playwrights who were in the room during rehearsals changing their words based on the choices we all made. A collaboration to make art? Yes. An opportunity to create liminality? Definitely.

Liminality is an anthropological concept of transformaton. Arthur Van Gennep observed and named it as stages in rites of passage ceremonies but the credit for this word is given to Victor Turner. There are three stages: there is the pre-liminality stage, the liminal stage and the post liminal stage. Pre-liminality is when you are going through your every day just living your life. The liminal stage is the juicy part - you are transported to a sacred space outside of time. If you are fortunate enough to do this in community it is outrageously real. A time of illumination, otherwordliness and pure clarity. You see everything about life and why you are here, all at once. And when the activity that captured your imagination ends of something shifts you come back to your every day lfe. You feel as though something transformative has happened to you but you can't quite put it into words. I wanted to create that space. To take the audience to another place. To literally see their G*d. It's a powerful gifts and in the wrong hands and with a little charisma it creates cult leaders and cults which usually end in destruction.

You cannot maintain that liminal space for ever. As a human being - you would go insane. It's what addicts call "Chasing the Dragon". You will never have that experience again. Nothing will live up to it mostly because you've forgotten about the details mainly because it defies language and is all feeling and how does one talk about the sensations of their body except through metaphor and simile? That's not the thing rather the thing's cousin.I remember when I realized that I could not live in ecstasy (maybe if I went to Tibet and sat on a mountain but even then it was not promised). We can just be grateful for the experience and muscle memory those glorious moments.

What was I talking about? Yes, liturgy and sacred space. When I decided to attend Union Theological Seminary it was for totally utilitarian reason: I wanted to be a chaplain and needed a Masters of Divinity (M.Div) to do that work. Had I been more clear in my thinking I would have crossed the street and gone to Jewish Theological Seminary. But you make choices and you live with them and then make more choices. Union was familiar and I only needed on thing from them so why not? But while I was there I experienced so much more. I could create liminal spaces there, too. All of my prior education was leading to those moments of making church.

Once again I got to pick the words, the set, the lighting, the music and the players and I even had a stage manager in the form of chapel ministers whose entire job was to help bring the liturgical experience to life. There was only one drawback - if you created the liturgy you had to preach the sermon. I became a director because I did not want to be an actor (and because I did not like people telling me what to do!) Acting terrified me but at least in theatre you get to be someone else so that lessened the shock. In Liturgy - it was all you giving that sermon. But you did get to choose the words so you had the opportunity to craft what you wanted to say even if you weren't sure how to say it. And I could craft words.

But something interesting happened the first time I gave a sermon - I had a liminal moment. I was preaching about shame and victim-survivors of Domestic Violence/Intimate Partner Violence which had been my work for about two years at that point. I knew the stats and the stories. And at some point in that sermon I stopped looking at my notes and looked at the congregation. They were hearing my words and it was affecting them. My mind and body came together and promised itself that it would not miss this moment. This opportunity to have people hear the truth about the best friends: shame and violence. And the only way I know what I said is because there was a recording of it. But even then when I watched the recording I focused on the things my mind could understand: my cadence, when I was reading, how bored someone in the third row looked.I could not access the moment anymore. And this truth depressed me until I could let it go and come back to the knowing that there would be another moment and another if I stayed connected to, well, all of it.

And I began seeking out opportunities to preach. And I got better at it. My theology: the meaning behind the piece of scripture I would preach about was always sound. I was a great researcher and interpreter. It was the execution that needed help. But getting better at the delivery of my sermons was not what made Liturgy my jam. It was all the things around the sermon that prepared you for it. The way you entered the space what your senses are taking in, the music, set pieces, lights and then the praying and preaching were the liminal moments and then we were done. And so I preached and preached always about things that kept me up at night and interpretations that most people would never touch. I became fearless which made me good. And my willingness to fly without a net gave others the opportunity to also ditch their net. So, yes, that's why liturgy is my jam. I am good at it but more importantly I love doing it - not just for me but so that community is created - if only for ten minutes. A lot can happen in ten minutes. And it usually does. Tread gently upon the earth with your eyes open and when something shifts, if even just a little bit, go there, see what "there" has in store for you and when you are ready come back.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Insurance and Other Crap

I haven't written a post in over five years. I started this blog to help integrate all the things I was feeling after going through cancer. Now that I am going through it again I need help integrating all the feelings while going through cancer. All the things I thought I knew but I obviously did not or I wouldn't be in this particular place in my life right now. And there is no sense in going back and blaming myself for not taking better care of myself or for not hearing every word every doctor said to me for the last ten years. That accomplishes nothing. It only serves to make me feel bad and I cannot afford self-pity right now (or ever really.) I told my best friend, last night, that I didn't think I could write any longer because I had spent the last several years in seminary and it had trained my brain to write with words that the majority of people have never heard before. It makes me one of the gatekeepers of knowledge. Keeping people out by speaking in a foreign language. And that saddened me deeply. I did not want to write long winding sentences replete with commas and semi colons - ten lines long. I wanted to write short, pithy sentences that accurately relayed what I felt even if it had to use curse words to do it. So I decided to return to the blog and see what would come out. Today I am receiving chemotherapy. A three to four hour treatment. I am bored having forgotten my headphones at home and unable to play a movie or watch another repeat episode of The Blacklist. I am coughing like I have smoked a pack a day for ten years and ricola and warm tea with honey are not helping rather I think it is ultimately making it worse. I am waiting for them to put in the Benadryl so hopefully the phlegm and mucus will dry up and I will be able to get a good sleep. I feel at the mercy of people doing things to me rather than me doing them for myself. The only thing I can do myself is to write and to put my heart pillow, which has a little pocket in the back of it for my black tourmaline crystal, next to me. That's all I've got right now, and it's enough - for right now. Doctors don't like to give you a prognosis because what if they are wrong? And all Drs. really want to do it save your life, especially surgeons. And if I was a fully cognizant idealist right now I would want them to do it for purely altruistic reasons. But because I am so very sick at this moment (not in terms of symptoms - I feel fine) but in terms of the actual diagnosis, I don't care whether they have an altruistic bone in their body. I just want them to fix this. And I can be proactive, by eating well and getting enough sleep and doing my yoga for cancer yoga and meditations that I have on Gaiam.com. But all of that doesn't change one fundamental fact: I have cancer and I will have to rely on the generosity of others and quite frankly the sheer selfishness of my surgeon's not wanting to fail. I want to be in a boat being steered by a very strong and sure navigator who has traversed these waters before. Presently I am not with that courageous sea-farer.I an with oar-person has relegated me to. And present fact is really the point of this post. Insurance in this country sucks. Because I have two part-time jobs as opposed to one full time job I had to search for and pay for my own health insurance. And I researched. One thing I am really good at! And came up with a good insurance who participated with all my doctors and had great prescription drug coverage and no co-pays. It was heaven, for one year and then 45 was elected and everyone lost their shit and started raising prices and cutting benefits. I was almost priced out of my wonderful health insurance. Then I got sick and realized that all the money I was putting into that insurance for the last few days did not afford me the best healthcare when I needed it most. My poor primary care physician (PCP) called and faxed and texted this insurance company but still an immovable wall. I called and faxed and texted and was told that the highest person I could speak to was the supervisor on the customer service floor. Really? No one who made and decisions? Not one? Why am I telling you all of this information about my sickness and my insurance woes? Because that is the best way I can, right now, shed light on this hellish healthcare system that we have. And yes, there are far more important thing happening in the world right now, not the least of these being the "First Lady's" bullshit: "Be Best," campaign which is so broad it is toothless. There are #MeToo campaigns and Russian inquiries and a man in the White House who is perhaps the world's greatest john/sex trafficker. I get it. And today my problem is with the healthcare system that is not interested in curing anything as much as throwing drugs at it at an exorbitantly high price. I thought I knew better. I thought I was doing all the right things but my due diligence was not diligent enough. So, please be grateful for your health if you have it (if you don't I am praying for you) and for your healthcare, if it works and other little thing that brings you joy today. Feel joy! Today I have joy because none of the people I am sharing the infusion suite with are throwing things at me for coughing every 30 seconds. It's the little crap.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Thoughts become things or in this case people

Today, on my way home from school, I stopped at Trader Joe's to pick up some items for dinner and meals tomorrow. I was standing by the chicken waiting for the lovely stock person to see if there were any chicken thighs in the back. The kids wanted curry chicken for dinner. Needless to say, there weren't. But while I was standing there I looked over by the escalator and saw these two women smelling something. I looked up and the sign said: "Cinnamon Broom: $3.99." Suddenly all I could smell was cinnamon. Surely, the smell was there before I noticed it but now it was in my nostrils singing a little diddy: "Buy me. Take me home." I went over to smell it and it was heaven. It was fall. I could actually see the leaves falling. Pulled back from my daydream by the very real fact that I needed to shop, get home, make dinner, pick up the kids and then finish some school reading, made me put down the broom and walk away. It was too awkward to carry with my hand cart anyway. Well, that smell followed me. All over the store. When I got back upstairs there was no one on line. NO. ONE. For anybody who shops at the UWS (that's Upper West Side, for the uninitiated) TJ's knows that when there is no line you jump on it because if you turn your back the line will be out the door. So, I jump in line but I am still smelling the cinnamon. I make a decision: when I get to the cashier, I will ask if someone can go and grab me one. They are helpful like that. So, there I am standing in line with my hand basket (what the hay are those things called anyway? - Oh, and "what the hay," is a shout-out to my Writing Teacher, Amy - I think she is from the Midwest!), when I realize that I am next. Yay me! So I quickly scan the cashiers to see who is almost done and where I might be going. That's when it happened. I saw sour-puss guy at cashier 29. Now, I may just be extra sensitive but this guy upsets me. He does his job with the appropriate amount of professionalism, but he always acts as though he is doing you a favor by ringing up your stuff and taking your money. You always get the cursory: "How are you?" (I think it's in their work contract!)But that's it. The guy is irritable. And it takes the bloom off the rose of my shopping experience whenever I get him. Well, he is standing there admiring his cuticles (no, seriously), so I think "Oh, he is going to be vain a few more seconds and then I will get the perky girl at register 16. That's closer to the cinnamon broom anyway!" So, I stand there thinking "Please not him. Please not him..." when it happens. The flag at register 29 waves. The happy woman directing cart traffic turns to me and says: "#29." I almost screamed out: "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" But there I was off to #29. Irritable guy. Now I am irritated and I do not want to ask him anything about getting my cinnamon broom. Just ring up my stuff and get me out of here. There I was face to face with my shopping nemesis - and all I could think was "why him, why him!" I left the store without my cinnamon broom. Once outside where the smell of cinnamon was a distant memory I mentally started berating myself. "Thoughts become things, Keisha!" While you were standing there wasting your energy on it not being him - it ended up being him. Just another little trick from the Universe. Trick or wake up call? It was such a slight thing - getting the cashier I didn't want but it reminded me that I have power. My thoughts have power. I learned this all at the knee of my amazing Dean from One Spirit, Franne and her equally fantastic husband Bob. They teach a class called "Infinite Possibilities," based on the work of Mike Dooley. Lesson #1 - Thoughts become things. When I stopped mentally abusing myself for focusing on the cashier and how I could have either ignored him (probably wouldn't have worked the way I think it would), or how I could have sent him love and light (that wasn't going to happen), I was about a half block away from the store. And I stopped. Got comfortable in my body for a second and re-assessed the situation, because I was not taking this drama the next block and a half with me. Bing! My bags were perfectly balanced. I had a really heavy hand basket (that's what it's called!)and it was obvious that I was walking somewhere - everyone in NYC is walking somewhere. So without asking me, he had gotten the sturdy paper bags and began to pack my items. Okay, that last sentence was a bit negative. Rewind. My bags were perfectly balanced. He made it so I could carry them - one in each hand - and not be pulled down by one side. That is a skill. That is thoughtfulness. That is him doing his job. So what if he doesn't smile. He doesn't feel like it. Doesn't harm me one bit. My bags were perfectly balanced. That's how I work to be most days. Balanced (I dropped the perfectly right after having my first kid!). And remembering that "Thoughts become things" is a good way to work toward balance. I am creating my reality. Every. Moment. Don't take my word for it read "Infinite Possibilities" and if you are in the NYC area, take a class with Franne and Bob (or see them next month at the conference in Boston where they will be doing a presentation on their work!. And maybe the next time something is going awry you will realize that your bags are perfectly balanced. And now I will pick up the boys and my cinnamon broom on the way home.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

28 Day Ashtanga/Running Challenge - The actual point

So, yesterday we had a "snow" storm here. Basically it was really heavy wet snow - snow-cone-snow, if you will. I stayed home from ashtanga and planned to practice here. Unfortunately the only place I could find to practice where there weren't other people was down in the basement. And once there I found that ceiling was so low that I could not reach my hands over my head! Ha Ha. We have lived in this apartment for the better part of three years and I never noticed that before. Tonight is more of the same. Max is home sick, again, and I cannot leave him alone in the apartment so I will not be going to class again today. Life gets in the way of our best laid plans. So I will practice at home tonight. Upstairs with my ashtanga dvd - going as far as I have in class. Then tomorrow when Max is back in school I will start this challenge all over again! I promised myself 6 days in a row for 28 days. And since I have not done that I have to start at the beginning. It may take me months to get to 28 consecutive days (not including Saturdays when there is no mysore class - or moon days - the new and full moons - when the studio is closed). A lot of this challenge is about getting used to going to yoga six times per week. But more than that it is about keeping my word to myself. I so often let myself get behind and to put myself last. I make promises to myself that I do not keep because somehow something else gets in the way. Most of that truth is evident in things like Max getting sick and bad weather. But it is still a point that I want to stay with - no matter what else is going on - to treat myself well and to put myself first. My kids are older and can, in a lot of ways, fend for themselves. When I am well-rested and I have eaten well and exercised I am a better, happier person. I feel it and the kids notice it. And it is not too late in life to find this path. And to really practice self-care. So, I will continue to strive for 6 days in a row. I will begin training for the 5K. And I will be posting more about how this challenge is shaping me and changing me. That, afterall, is the point of it. Be well, Keisha

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The Ashtanga/Run Challenge Day Two

Okay, I am techinically writing this on day 3. I really did not want to go to yoga yesterday. I am not very strong, yet, so I was not looking forward to a few positions which really hurt my arms. Upper ward facing dog into Downward dog is horrible for me. And thinking about that position brought fear into my heart. But I made a commitment to myself to go through this challenge and so I went. And that transition was a lot easier. Was I still filled with pain and dread when it was time to push my hips back into downward dog - yes I was. But for a few moments I could actually feel how it is a restorative pose. Now for confession time - I did not start to run yesterday. I was too cold. So I decided to start my running program on Saturday. It is the one day when I do not have yoga and it seems like a good day to start. As I go through this journey I will be posting more information about ashtanga (there is so much there for me to learn - and it dovetails nicely with the Hinduism homework I had for the month of October.). That is all for today, ummm, yesterday! Be well, Keisha

Monday, November 5, 2012

The Ashtanga/Run Challenge - Day One

Technically, as Vivian is fond of saying, my first day of ashtanga was this past Friday night. But I only decided to stick with the 6 days a week ashtanga challenge this past weekend. So here we are. I am pledging to go to Yoga class 6 days a week for the rest of the month for 28 days, because it takes 28 days to change a habit. I can not go on Saturdays as that is a led class. And since I am new to ashtanga and don't know all the poses it would not be useful to go on Saturday. So let me explain for those of you not familiar with ashtanga - it means 8 limbs and the third limb is asana or a physical practice. There are a series of postures that you learn one at a time from your teacher. The practice is called Mysore after the home of the main guru of ashtanga - Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, also known as Guruji. I was first introduced to ashtanga 8 years ago. I loved the workout ashtanga gave you and I liked the one on one time you received from your teacher. After doing research and reading and watching movies (I highly recommend Ashtanga NY), I found an ashtanga studio here on the Upper West Side where I live. Literally two blocks away from my home. And what's more they have a Mysore schedule that fits with my life schedule and a student discount on the monthly cost. Perfect. I am a big fan of my teacher, Zoe, and so far I am maintaining my discipline of getting up and going but it has only been two days after all! And I am sure that if I keep to it it will become a regular part of my day. Now about the running. I registered for my first 5K with the hopes of expanding my running program over the next year. Where it will take me, I am not sure yet, but I am pledging to run 3xs per week using the Couch to 5K program. So this is the first day of Ashtanga and the first day of running begins tomorrow. Check in if you want to track my progress! And please feel free to post comments or to offer support or advice! I would love to hear from you. Here are some useful links about ashtanga and running. Ashtanga Guruji, Upper West Side Ashtanga, Ashtanga NY (available for stream on Netflix) Running Progam Couch to 5K, Cupid Run See you all soon!

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

In the beginning was the Word....

When I first started this blog I made a point of writing fairly often. As time went on my posts were more sporadic because I felt I needed to be "deep" and "inspiring" every time I sat down to write. As I have grown as a human and as a writer I realize that there is no need to put off writing until I am in the grasp of some huge idea. Every small idea opens doors and windows. I was also guilty of creating separate blogs to address different areas of my life: one for food, one for camp Mommy, and one for "deep thoughts," a la Jack Handy, just not as funny. Completely unnecessary. Everything I do, eat, wear and think are part of me. There is no need to separate all of it out into neat little categories. I can't do that in my brain, so what makes me think I can do it on paper - well, virtual paper at least. On Facebook I have started posting my gratitude journal. I usually do it for 30 days but this time I decided to do it for 35. From the first day I began posting my gratitudes until September 16th - Rosh Hashanah - the Jewish New Year. I began remembering why I love the fall so much. New school year means new beginnings, fresh paper and pens and pencils. Books yet to be explored. Thoughts yet to be written. What comes with the fall is the Autumnal Equinox and the Jewish New Year and Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur). I love these holidays and indeed these traditions because they follow a lunar calendar. A lunar cycle is how my body naturally works. It is my life circadian rhythm, if you will. Since I am a traveler actively working to make sense of my earthly experience, I have studied many different traditions looking for a home. None of them fit me fully, but I am able to take bits and pieces from different traditions, belief systems and even religions, to make my own spiritual ontology. Recently, I listened to an interview of Krista Tippett interviewing Kate Baestrup, the author of "Here If You Need Me." Here is the synopsis of the book, because it does a much better job of expressing the truth of the book than I can: "Ten years ago, Kate Braestrup and her husband Drew were enjoying the life they shared together. They had four young children, and Drew, a Maine state trooper, would soon begin training to become a minister as well. Then early one morning Drew left for work and everything changed. On the very roads that he protected every day, an oncoming driver lost control, and Kate lost her husband. Stunned and grieving, Kate decided to continue her husband's dream and became a minister herself. And in that capacity she found a most unusual mission: serving as the minister on search and rescue missions in the Maine woods, giving comfort to people whose loved ones are missing, and to the wardens who sometimes have to deal with awful outcomes. Whether she is with the parents of a 6-year-old girl who had wandered into the woods, with wardens as they search for a snowmobile rider trapped under the ice, or assisting a man whose sister left an infant seat and a suicide note in her car by the side of the road, Braestrup provides solace, understanding, and spiritual guidance when it's needed most. HERE IF YOU NEED ME is the story of Kate Braestrup's remarkable journey from grief to faith to happiness. It is dramatic, funny, deeply moving, and simply unforgettable, an uplifting account about finding God through helping others, and the tale of the small miracles that occur every day when life and love are restored." This book changed my entire perception of my "calling," (Thank you Kim Collins for hipping me to this book.) What do I mean by "calling?" When I was ready to apply for college I had a decision to make, and it was one I didn't share with other people. I was deciding between going to college or going to seminary. I felt very sure that my work on earth was to minister to people and help them soothe their souls. There was just one problem with this idea -I wasn't sure, any longer, if I could embrace any one religion. This is where Kate's book comes it. She writes that she is religious but not spiritual, giving the common phrase: I am not religious, I am spiritual, a quick turn on its head. I disagreed. I am spiritual and I am a pracitioner of many religions and none at all. So this is what made the decision to go to seminary, at the age of 19, very difficult for me. I still held onto the idea of a personal G-d but not a personal religion. So I had to walk that path and find out what I could, in fact, do to minister to people's souls. I became a Religious Studies major. I sang. I entered theatre and practiced creating sacred space. I studied Judaism and loved the prescribed behavior of the Orthodox. I entered Witchcraft and found solace in making my own reality and magic(k) through writing and casting my own spells, in taking control of my happiness and my "luck." I walked a short path into Ifa, the tradition of Yorubaland where I have been repeatedly told, when I was in a consultation with an Ifa priest, that my destiny was to be initiated into the religion (seriously I have been told this three times) and that choice still scares me because it would require that I settle in one place on one tradition. But during all of this my desire to minister never left me. I knew my job: to make people's lives filled with love and serenity. And to fulfill the prophecy of my loving astrologer: "To teach people the meaning of life," yea, I would have to figure out what that was first. And what does all of this have to do with words, new beginnings, Kate Baestrup, death and a spritual calling? Let me tell you: I recenty made the decision to attend seminary to become an interfaith minister and to receive ordination. I also made the decision to work as either a hospice or hospital chaplain. My desire to have people experience love and serenity in their life is as strong as my calling to help them achieve love and serenity in their active dying. I have never been afraid of death or the dead - and this was long before I had cancer. I have always found death strangely calming because it was the only thing I knew for sure. So these thoughts and my desire to live a holistic and not a fragemented life, led me to place everything about me into one blog and this is it. Three days ago I started a gratitude journal and I will share that here. I am in the middle of a rigorous job search and I will post that here. I am still working to live the healthiest life I can and I will post that here. I working at placing love and trust at the forefront of my daily practice, and I will post that here. And I am about to embark on a wonderful, joy-filled part of my life as a seminary student and I will most definitely post that here. So, walk with me. Find you own inspiration, love and serenity and let's have a conversation. There is so much to share in this life - in my life - and I want to know what is going on in your life. I want to hear your heartbeat. So bring your life, loves, triumphs and even your disappointments here or keep them to yourself if you wish just allow yourself to live every moment fully. That is my wish for all of you. To be in love with yourself and with your life. It is going to be quite a trip. In peace, Keisha