Monday Morning Musings:

^{Sunrise in NJ}

February Rites

The day embraces you,
heart-breezes lift and
awaken.

This is part of always.
We listen to the rain of knowing
and the sea of the unknown,
remember voices

of ghosts and angels around us.
Listen, do you hear the trees?
The soft growl of green poking
through the snow?

The slow smile of self—-asking,
receiving, giving joy.

Here is the wild, secret brilliance of the universe.
Magic in each breath. We celebrate.

February is the month of Smith family birthdays. My husband and my mother-in-law have birthdays coming up soon. My younger child’s birthday was last week. She stopped by the day before for a visit. I had baked her a cake (gingerbread with a whipped chocolate ganache) and we gave her some presents.

However, this past weekend was a special celebration, our older child’s birthday—and their B’Mitzvah. My Oracle poem on Saturday alluded to it. B’Mitzvah is a gender-neutral term, which is becoming more commonly used by many congregations, for the coming-of-age ritual in Judaism. We made the trip to western Massachusetts to celebrate with them. This was the first time we had seen their house—and cats–and we got to stay there with our child and their wife. Our daughter also stayed there. We drove there; daughter took the train. I had been worried about snow and ice, but fortunately, the weather was beautiful. (There’s a winter storm warning for tomorrow.) On Friday afternoon, we took a walk on the nearby bike path, and we didn’t need winter coats. We didn’t have too much time, but we did see this mural depicting people in Florence. Sojourner Truth lived there. There is a memorial statue of her in the town, as well. On Friday night, we stopped at a local brewery in Northampton, and then had a wonderful meal at our child and their wife’s favorite Indian restaurant. It was so good!

Saturday was the B-Mitzvah. It was nothing like any I have attended in the past (admittedly long ago). We never belonged to a synagogue, and my siblings and I never had any formal religious education. I think there is something extra special though about an adult feeling called in this way. This congregation and the service and rituals were so joyous and welcoming. The synagogues I went to in the past had pew-like seating. Here, the chairs were free-standing and set up in a horseshoe shape with the rabbis and readers in the middle. Children played and wandered about. People sang, clapped, and beat time on the podium. I opened the curtain to the Torahs, and my husband stood nearby. Our daughter carried a Torah. There was candy thrown (and then scrambled for and collected by the children). Of course, my child did a wonderful job of reading. Their remarks were funny, loving, and heartfelt. I really appreciated the rabbis, as well as all those gathered there for my child. As is customary, there was food at after the service for everyone who attended it. The B’Mitzvah is part of the usual Saturday Shabbat service, and so, it is open to the congregation.

There was an afterparty at my child’s house with food prepared by my daughter-in-law, black bean chili and lots of fun dips. One of their friends had this fabulous t-shirt made for Jay and the immediate family.

Later we played charades and later still, trivia. We left western Massachusetts on Sunday morning—sorry to leave them, but eager to return to our Ricky cat, who our dear friends fed while we were gone. (Thank you!).

^{This beautiful sunrise on Sunday morning in western Massachusetts}

Oh yeah. There was a sporting event on last night. I sat with my husband for a little while not-watching it, while we ate homemade pizza that I had frozen from last week.