Guess I'll try anything to find spirituality. When I was younger, so much younger than today, I searched for meaning in different worship and meditation forms. I became what is known as a Jew-boo, finding spirituality in chanting and soaring towards nirvana. When I was young, even though I loved Judaism, it left me with a lot of information and no skills to find God. So I chanted Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, with my legs crossed in the lotus position. I also really loved Ram Dass' Be Here Now ("We're fascinated by the words--but where we meet is in the silence behind them.").
So after years of searching, I went to Danbury, Conn., where my parents had a little cabin and where my mother spent her last days of life. I went down to the lake, swam to a rock, got in the lotus position, and started chanting. I guess in facing my mother's imminent death, I wanted some way to enter a place of calm and connection with the universe. As I was chanting, I realized that the Buddhist mantra's quick chanting was really no different from davening--(speedily saying the Hebrew liturgy), and a light bulb went off. Why was I chanting in a language and adopting a culture that I did not truly understand? All of a sudden, like Forrest Gump, I stopped (remember him running across the country?), climbed off the rock, abandoned my search, and went back to square one--my Jewish roots. When my wife Kelley converted, her learning vaulted me further on my Jewish journey. I would go to the hospital in those times and would sing at her bedside. Eventually I had to leave and go back to DC, and she passed a week later. I was at the ocean and the moon was full, and as I walked on the beach near Rehobeth, Del., I felt her soul begin her journey. I wrote a song about her and I am including it in this blog.
Sometimes when the moon is full
I remember the night you passed
Standing at the edge of the ocean
Like the waves my heart had crashed
In the moon's soft glow I steal a glimpse of
The mother I could never replace
I hear your song in the voice of the sea
How I love this place
God neither sleeps nor slumbers
Hinei lo yanum v'lo yishan
Neither does a memory fade
In the darkness of night or the stillness of dawn!
Esa einai I lift my eyes
To the Holy One Blessed Be He to the skies
The light of your love………..never dies
Every year I light a candle
Place it in the sand
When the full moon paints a line
From horizon to the land
I tell your story to my children
They sense your presence here
I see your beaming face shine down
As moonbeams draw you near…..chorus
As waves of memory wash over us
Your help is ever flowing
Ezri Maim Hashem
We're comforted in knowing
God neither sleeps nor slumbers
Hinei lo yanum v'lo yishan
Neither does a memory fade
In the darkness of night or the stillness of dawn!
Esa einai I lift my eyes
To the Holy One Blessed Be He to the skies
The light of your love………..never dies
(Tag) I can feel it in the moonlight I can feel it in the ocean
You live inside my heart.
I remember when uncle Jule died. It was a fantastic send-off with the world's greatest composers like Marvin Hamlisch and Stephen Sondheim telling humorous stories and relating fond memories. And I went to the private graveside ceremony. I wanted to make sure that someone who knew how to say Kaddish would be there. Margaret (Jule's wife) and Nicky (Jule's son) turned to me and said they were glad that I was there. I remember Nicky's wedding Jule saying the motzi prayer over bread. He sounded like everyone else in my Eastern European family. My dad, first-generation, my mom, second-generation--aunts, uncles, cousins--I guess the tie that binds us all together is our history and our religion that God-willing will carry on. God neither sleeps nor slumbers!