This is precious poetry in one word, singing in our ear the ideal, aligned state of being the world: Our innermost state shining through our face, the extension of Truth itself. In that state when we are where and what we are, unmasked, raw and real, sometimes broken, our being can touch another being. We all know this place and have experienced this place of alignment and connection; we have at least had a glimpse.

Though this state holds the deepest strength it is translated in our minds to vulnerability. And we are right. The truth is we are all fragile, and because this is true for all that exists in this world, when we open up, admit, and surrender to it we come out of our loneliness and really embrace the world and its creatures.

Instead, shaken by forces of the unknown, we seek to gain more control; in order to do that we mask our true faces with what we think of as a survival mechanism--putting in constant effort to remain "under-cover" and deny the actual state of lack of control and vulnerability in face of the world's forces.

There is no real division between compulsive behavior and habit; there is a range. These are the survival mechanisms we have acquired desperately to gain control, but instead they control us. We are all slaves, meaning, we all, to varying degrees, act in the world not from a place of choice or freedom. Ironically, we mask the fear of our lack of control with a stronger hold and more dedication to our habits and patterns which are the cause of our lack of control. We falsely identify these with who we are becoming a permanent mask we start to think of as our face, as we become more and more attached to it. These masks are what most intimately control our lives and create barriers to a compassionate, open, and joyful interaction with the world, yet they are mostly invisible to us.

Often times our own lack of freedom and and fear of our vulnerability can be an impetus for the ridiculous, totally illusionary and extremely harmful desire to control others, especially those with whom we are in intimate relationships. The most harmful--yet subtle--form of this occurs when we try to control others to validate our mask that has become our face. This is the survival mechanism of the mask: we come to think of it as ourselves and then we wish for others to validate it. This is the social pact. This is the definition of "keeping face" which should be called "keeping mask:" do not challenge my mask and I will not challenge yours; or, not challenging my own mask I do not challenge yours. Instead of meeting in our vulnerability we just hear the clanking of our synthetic masks.

In this harmful, reciprocal, symbiotic codependence we reify each others’ masks for fear of being exposed, while exposing ourselves is actually our path to freedom. The mask, a product of our lack of freedom, becomes a false sense of control that we hold on to for dear life when, in fact, it is holding us hostage. Instead of effortlessly looking into the eyes of each other, and out into the world, we exhaust ourselves. We keep our fists tight around the butterfly of our soul, keeping up a falsehood for ourselves and others. We are all suffering, but at least we are "in control." Breaking this agreement could lead to one of two scenarios: averting the challenge in any possible way by becoming defensive or even abusive, or rising to the occasion by challenging ourselves to grow.

In the book of Esther, which holds the Purim story, what sparks Haman's anger that propels the plot, is the fact that Mordechai does not agree to bow down to him. Everyone else, out of fear or just habit, bows down to Haman, over and over, affirming his mask made of a brutal power position. Mordechai, just one person who does not bow, is the force that eventually brings the mask tumbling down.

We can regard these characters as forces in our life. On Purim we put on costumes and masks, we think we are hiding behind them but actually they allow us to reveal to the world something that we do not allow ourselves to show every day. We joke around and turn things on their heads נהפוכו . This is an opportunity to loosen our grip from what we have come to identify as our personality, and for a day or two to not bow down to it. Like a drop of the wine that we are commanded to drink, the taste of this irreverence to our "selves" should remain on our lips.

There is nothing more holy than the endeavor to constantly increase our inner degree of freedom and to release our loved ones to do so. This journey is one and the same, for one feeds the other. The more we act out of freedom, the less we need others to validate and cater to the needs of our patterns that we have falsely identified with ourselves. When we notice the gross and subtle ways in which we have the impulse to control others; when we point it out and name it as control, really a type of violence; when we have the courage not to justify it, but to own it; we begin to unmask ourselves, creating more intimacy with reality that we have until now seen through the narrow cracks of a tainted view from the mask covering our eyes.

And in turn, there is another form of release: we must stop collaborating with our loved ones’ compulsive need for us to validate their masks, which we do through pleasing, appeasing, and allowing ourselves be controlled. By acting as accomplices in this way, we further the harmful patterns and thicken the masks on their faces and ours.

No one is completely free of the mask; the only thing that varies is the degree to which we are able to recognize its patterns and name those. Then it can slowly melts away and we see beyond it, our faces beaming, we are courageously connected in our vulnurablity, leaving us with sweet, true strength and intimacy. This is the fulfillment of the commandment לא תעשו לכם פסל וכל מסכה "You shall not make an idol or a mask for yourselves."

Contact the writer at edenmikedem [at] gmail [dot] com
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As we are looking towards the festival of lights, I want to invite us to remain in the dark just a little longer.

As the days shorten and nights lengthen we are, understandably looking for a way out. Who doesn't enjoy lighting up the night with the Hanukah candles, or with colorful Christmas lights for that matter? Our traditions meet in that human need to be in the light, to warm up the spirit. We celebrate miracles, we celebrate faith. I want to focus our gentle attention on the moment before the birth of a miracle, what are the inner workings of a miracle? What allows for it to truly arise before our eyes?

There is nothing more crucial in order for us to allow for miracles, than cultivating an appreciation and a sense of awe-filled regard, a sacred honor, for the precious nature of the unknown. A miracle, a new form breaking out of normal, mundane, habituous lines of action, can only arise when we agree to let go of the forms and concepts we know and mistakenly believe guard us. This false sense is the foremost miracle blocker. Most of us live our lives in addiction to what we know, living out the same patterns in our family, in our work, even in our pleasure, repeating the same sayings, reproducing the same relationships, multiplying the same interactions.

You think you're radical? Beware! Are you really living out choice, living out freedom? We are all stuck in some way or other. The place where our inner fist holds the tightest, is exactly where, once the fingers loosen, a butterfuly of white light will be released into the air, a miracle. Take a moment. We all know that inner fist. Feel it for a moment. Make a fist in both hands, tight. Now slowly release. How does that feel?  Ingrain that feeling: a miracle has already happened.

I want to propose that what is so scary about change is not change itself, but that moment just before change that brings a new, more aligned form. It is that chaotic, formless, in-between part that scares us, but it is in that place, a place of no-form, of languageless paradox, that is a magical birth canal. And make no mistake, no fluffiness is intended: It is dark and narrow and scary, very scary.

Let us grow in strength and faith! For it is not in the light, where everything is seen and clear, that we need faith, that we need to practice faith. True light and clarity is a by product of letting go--letting go in faith, agreeing to stay just a little longer, held by nothing and no one but God. God not as we think we know or want to imagine, but AS IT IS.

More often than not even when things seem to be moving forward, we are mostly using old forms to try and create new ones. Our imagination grasps at what we know to use that material to create more of the same. The reason for this is that most of the time we do not agree to stay in that place of breadth in between breaths. The upper link to eternity in Jewish mystical thought is called Ayyn, nothingness or emptiness. It is only in bearing witness to darkness, staying quiet, not filling the air with words, not lighting up the room, not making "happy, happy," but staying alone with open palms and a loose jaw is when a miracle happens; its source from The Eternal, pushing through the birth canal of Ayyin, appearing before our eyes.

This is victory: Letting this process happen, and it is the biggest bravery of all. And it is then that we really start moving, not creating more of the same, not doing for the sake of doing, but doing Avodat ha'shem, God's work in the world.

In Hebrew, משבר  "mashber," means both crisis and birth. Rebirth is often regarded as a process which happens from this life to the next. If we are able to get friendly enough with the unknown we can blessedly give birth to ourselves many times during our lifetime, over and over again shedding old dry skin, when has become no longer useful. Allowing life to run through us, to shape us like rocks transformed slowly as raindrops caress them into new and beautiful forms. We could be more happy, we could be more free!

As we light the Menorah this year, as we remember the rededication and re-sanctification of the temple, let us not forget how broken and defiled it was just a moment before. It is in entering that broken temple that the cruse of oil was found. Let us celebrate not light over darkness but light born of darkness - blessed, holy darkness.

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הרבה אלה מירום גרה בתל אביב ומנחה טקסי חתונה ואחרים, מלמדת, עוסקת בליווי רוחני, ומנחה תפילות ליצירת קשר אנא פנו edenmikedem8@gmail.com-

Breather of empty drapes

Exalt of angel wings

Moan of empty dreidels

Impetus of hand knocking on door

Present Eternal

That which peeks through the cracks

Of impermanence, and bitter is its cracking

Turner of newspapers' pages, leafing themselves on streets

Rainer of tears exact and counted

Into the great sea

OPEN OUR GATE

For day has turned

*  Haviva Pediaya, from Heb Ela Merom

It is a sensitive time here in "The Promised Land," sensitive and fragile on all levels. Still we experience the lingering beauty of the revolution, and beauty is fragile. This is what our addiction to beauty is about. Unconsciously, through beauty we experience fragility by which we can touch impermanence, and let go for one split second into that which is beyond.

Autumn is finally here too, just in time to receive the new Jewish sacred cycle. Yesterday the yoreh (first rain) has fallen. In the Middle East we notice rain and bless The Source Life, rain is no small thing, and after the long dry summer the earth is very thirsty. After the first drops cleanse us the sun immediately comes out (it never hides for too long around these parts) and everything is so very bright, and a new fragrance fills the air.

Something is changing; gentle, cool breezes come and go. There is something bittersweet about it; it is lovely and shaky all at the same time. The weather is unpredictable in this season, a liminal state between summer and winter.

A feeling of insecurity is usually perceived as something negative, but that is only true when we are not aware of it and it acts out as something else, or when we immediately choose to do everything in our power to cover it up in order to feel more secure. Awareness of insecurity and surrender to it can soften us to let Eternity in, can humble us enough to receive that which is beyond our false sense of control. This is what The Days of Awe, and the Jewish month of Elul coming right before them is all about.

And this year something else is shaking us up.

The Palestinians are counting our sins to the world. This is the Jewish season of heshbon nefesh, soul-search and repentance, WE should be counting them ourselves. The dynamic between the Palestinian and Israeli leaders is one that we know all too well from our own personal lives. Fingers are being pointed towards each other. When will we learn that there will never be healing until we turn that finger around towards our own hearts?

This is one of the hardest things to do for most of us. Teshuvah, Return!

We spend so many of our days pointing out, looking out, learning about who we are outside in instead of inside out. This season is asking us to Re-Turn, turn towards the inner most part of ourselves, to reflect on the ways in which we have "missed the mark" (this is the literal meaning of sin in Hebrew). How, how, oh how have we been untrue to ourselves time and again, untrue to others, untrue to Truth? This calls NOT for self-righteousness, but deep and tender alignment. For once we do not justify, we do not react, we just listen as the "still small voice" of creation, that which has been missed endless times during this past year arises in our inner ear, in our "listening heart." Like Jonah we stop our running. STOP. This is why the Day of Atonement is called the Sabbath of all Sabbaths. It takes that perfect, still stop to truly listen, truly return. In that stop, undressed of the world's masks of security, of permanence, of control, we admit that we might not live through this year, that every person we love or hold dear might not either.

We ask for mercy during this time, we plea that we should be sealed for Life. But what kind of life are we asking for ourselves? A Life that IS life, that in it we remember, remember that which gives us life. We ask that the choices we make will be more true to that force. Life and death are constantly placed before us to choose from, it is in this season that we are to practice discerning between them. And it takes great courage to plunge in, to see falsehood in ourselves, to admit to mistakes, to the ways we have wronged others, to the ways we have wronged ourselves. We are afraid we might die if we do that, but the truth is that if we let our heart break open we will finally live.

This is the opening of the gate, the inner gate of our heart, of our Garden. We have so closely guarded the sweet fruit of that Garden that we were not able to taste of that fruit, we were not able to let others taste of it. The rain that is falling here and now is nourishing us, helping us grow that fruit to be eaten through the cold months of winter, as they come and go, always come and go, as everything does, always making way for something new.

I am now calling out in prayer to The Most High that we all let go of our tight grip to allow for newness.

This part of the world has been stagnant in unhealthy patterns and constricting conceptions for much too long. May we be brave enough to redefine in love our relationship to each other as nations, as societies, and as individuals. May the sweet force of change and of fragility help us grow not in aggression but in Strength, not in righteousness but in Truth, not in control but in Peace.
*to receive this author's future writings directly to your mailbox please write to edenmikedem8@gmail.com

הרבה אלה מירום גרה בתל אביב ומנחה טקסי חתונה ואחרים, מלמדת, עוסקת בליווי רוחני, ומנחה תפילות ליצירת קשר אנא פנו edenmikedem8@gmail.com-

 It has been almost a month since the beginning of the awakening of the Israeli public. The Israeli and the international media is mostly busy labeling, categorizing, predicting, pointing to what or who is missing, all but being present to incredible beauty of what is happening. Many people I talk to here are sharing the same feeling of immense awe and wonder, rare gratitude, and an expansive feeling of blessing. This, no matter what will happen in the future, has been scribed into the collective imagination of the Jewish people, and it has left a mark in the Havaya, the eternal presence. It could never be taken away from us.

Last Saturday night on August 6, 2011, 400,000 people in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem and all over Israel stood united to say one thing that rose above all the different signs and voices: there is something that is happening in Israeli society that is not aligned with justice, that is not aligned with Jewish ethics, that is not aligned with Truth. Yes, it was a deep call for change in government policy, but at the same time it is a call for a shift in the Israeli collective. This demonstration along with the struggle at large does not feel like just a demand from the government as an outside force, but also a demand of the public from itself.

The central slogan of this revolution "Ha'am doresh tzedek hevrati," the people demand social justice, was chanted not only as a protest, but as a prayer; or as Ari Elon, teacher at Bina- the secular yeshiva, and a man of Torah, beautifully put it: "ha'am doresh," in its essence means in Hebrew: the people are inquiring into, or seeking to discern- what is social justice?

Posing this demand for justice, asking the question of justice IS in of itself the shift in consciousness that is being experienced here. Many people who came to the demonstration describe a feeling of "before" and "after", nothing could stay the same. So many different parts of society came together to convey the same message: we want a just society that takes care of its weak, that is not utilitarian, that does not put capital at its center, that does not allow heartless "so called" freedom which is actually a regressive state of "survival of the fittest" to take over society and culture. Mutual responsibility should be at the center of Israeli society, was a central message. And yes, this struggle was begun by the middle class, but no one, absolutely no one is looking only at the needs of one particular sector or another.

There is a cry for wholeness and recognition that our fate is linked together, that no one could be free if there are others that are being oppressed. This is why you see men holding signs for women's rights, Jews holding signs for full equality for Israel's Arab citizens, and young, healthy, middle class students demanding rights for the poor, for single mothers, for the elderly, for foreign workers, for government workers, for people with disabilities, and yes, also for themselves. Believe it or not even people with means, who lack nothing in material goods were there too. And there was kindness at the heart of this demonstration, hundreds of thousands of people in one place and such gentleness of spirit, a place where whole families with young children felt safe. There was no aggression, no blood, stores are not being looted, this is a revolution that is not “against” but "for", as a friend put it.

There are no victims here, just a sense of power and ownership, it is a celebration. One of the speakers a the demonstration, Benyamin Lau, a Modern Orthodox rabbi, looking into the crowd could not help but say the "sh'hehyanu," Blessing G-d for allow us to live and see this precious moment. Right after him the well known Uda Basharat, an Israeli Arab writer, stood in front of the crowd to speak with a shaky, emotion filled, voice. All speakers without fail conveyed a message of unification.

Two days later, it was the eve of Tish'a B'Av, a fast day commemorating the destruction of the Temple, but more importantly commemorating the main reason for it: “senseless hatered.” On Rothchild Street in Tel Aviv, the place where this struggle begun thousands are sitting humbly on the ground in between the tents, groups are chanting out of Eicha, Lamentation, teachers and rabbis of different streams are teaching alongside each other profound words of Torah, groups are huddled together in music and respectful discussion. Only one street away the Jewish Arab partnership tent is making signs in both languages.

The Third Temple is being built with bricks of justice and senseless loving kindness.

Are you in or out?

A Proposal to Build the III Temple with Bricks of Justice and Senseless Lovingkindness