So yeah, it’s true: I’m bad at giving directions. "Fairly horrible" might be a more accurate descriptor. I tend to mix up right and left when I'm nervous and would carefully explain to you in the most well-meaning tone how to get to the local T stop by way of California.
But if I met someone just starting out along a path of Jewish (or perhaps any religious) conversation, and they asked, I would share with them these few thoughts:
1 - You’re not trying to beat anyone to the mikveh (or whatever dedication ritual ends this process for you.). I’m certain it will still be there, filled with water, when you arrive. So downshift a couple of gears and come out of the passing lane, already! There’s too much beauty, too many desert blooms, along the side of this road to hyper-focus on the finish line. (And if you’re thinking of it in terms of a finish line, you might want to ask yourself if this process is truly a journey or just a means to an end.)
2. - Likewise, respect where other people are, or where they have been, along the conversion time-line, and hopefully they will respect wherever it is you’re at in return. People will rarely, if ever, be at the same place at the same time. Why should they be? Human individuality kinda negates that sort of impossible symmetry, especially for self-driven learning experiences.
3. Does this all seem much larger than you and those things you may hold dear (e.g., - Facebook, iPods, how many cylinders are humming beneath your hood, the holiday office party, the person you rolled over to find in your bed this morning )? That’s probably a good thing. I believe that spirituality should be larger than Steve Jobs’ latest toy, Lindsay Lohan’s latest bust, yesterday’s gossip or tomorrow’s midterm. Hey, we’re talking about how we come to understand Life, The Universe and Everything. This isn’t a set of Ikea instructions. If we’re not even a little overwhelmed and awestruck by that process, then what qualifies as wonder in our lives?
4. - Talk to people. Share your thoughts, your fears, your joys. Grab a coffee and a bagel with a shmear over at Rubin's with someone from your class, hook up with a Shabbos buddy, or ask a Rabbi. (They really like and appreciate that.) This process is experiential. It goes deep and stirs up still waters. It’s supposed to shake your foundations. (See #3). These are huge, far-reaching issues that make our hearts pound and questions that capture our thoughts. I’m not sure anyone could, or should, carry these alone. Maybe you can figure out what you need to in silence but I promise, that bagel tastes better across the table from someone else.
(And, and just so you know, there are no stupid questions. Seriously. And if anyone tells you differently, go find someone else to talk to.)
5. - Finally, I truly believe we all practice our own form of religion every day (if by religion you mean a way of relating to ourselves, each other and the cosmos). (And I do.) I see Socialism as a religion and Parenting is a religion, Sex for sure, Politics, too, Academia definitely, and even, paradoxically enough, Atheism. Each claims its own set of scriptures per se, qualified (or not) leaders, a specialized lexicon and time-tested rituals, an agreed-upon code of ethics, and settings. I remember this every time someone looks at me as a converting Jew a wee bit askance.
We all have a calling down some road. May it end up taking us to where we need to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment