I am SO ready to turn the laptop off for at least 26 hours, to let myself sink into a different sense of time, to slide into shabbos and recalibrate. It tilts me into remembering that while our condition is indeed serious, the drama of this world is also lila, Divine play.
Tonight I taught the first class of a series, a reprise of one that I did when we first came to Boulder, that I called "Not In Shul: Jewish Home Spiritual Practices". I prepared by cleaning up, putting out tea, baking gluten-free cookies and re-entering some of the material that I enjoyed teaching back then. As I expected, the material looks the same---and different. My personal practices have morphed, over the years, and have acquired a patina. In teaching them, I am also rediscovering them. And I chose to meet in the lovely downstairs space that I always thought of as Zalman's domain.
It still holds the vibe of a richly-used teaching space.
It has been a long time since I taught classes of my own. I had been teaching for years before Zalman and I were together, and continued both with him and on my own---until we moved to Boulder. For the first year or so, I still gave classes. But soon, caring for Zalman's health issues, and the running of a complex household, took over; my own work, developed over decades, dwindled. I taught maybe twice a year, during retreats at Jewish venues.
Now, I feel like I am unpacking myself from the cedar chest, or from the closet with the mothballs. And the trouble with mental mothballs is that once you unpack what they have preserved, it may no longer fit into the changed world the way that it once did.
Or perhaps it is myself that no longer fits the same way.
Curioser and curioser. I look forward to what I may discover.
Good night, good shabbos, chag sameach.
And may the energy of this Purim unmask and depose the very real villains of our time and place.