Things are kind of unhappy in my life right now, and I feel like because of that, I’ve let my religious life slip.
Ty moved to Thailand, completely and unequivocally. He’ll be back in the summer, but it won’t be the same. I’m taking six classes, practicing kung fu, belly dancing, and working on the intentional community. Kung fu and belly dance are both so political and full of drama, and the intentional community is so confusing, given that I’m the only non-Christian. I feel frustrated with virtually all of the people I interact with.
Judaism is really the only aspect of my life where interpersonal politics isn’t making me miserable.
I go to shul every week now. I feel decidedly welcome at the Conservative synagogue, so much so that I don’t feel the need to really look into any other denominations at the moment. I love how simple singing is without accompanying instruments. I love that we move through the prayers quickly enough that I don’t get bored, but slowly enough that I can still follow even with my extremely basic Hebrew. I love the combination of egalitarianism and tradition.
Also, every time I try to visit the Reconstructionist synagogue, God strikes me down with an illness. I can take a hint, bro.
Also, there’s my friend Jen. She’s one of the belly dancers, but probably the only one whose ego isn’t cramping my style at the moment. She converted when she was 30, and she likes to remind me that she’s old enough to be my mother. Which is technically true, but only if she was rather… precocious. But that’s beside the point.
She came with me to services last Shabbat, and it was a lot more awesome than I expected. Normally I feel really weird praying too close to other people, but somehow this was not true with her. And as we were leaving we started talking about the holidays, and what it means to be a convert with no Jewish family. This is something I’ve been worried about since Ty left–with him out of town, what will I do for Pesach? But then I talked to Jen.
“We could have a seder together!” She said. “I could be, like, your surrogate Jewish mother!”
And I said, “Yes.”