Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Rabbi Gurevitz' creative works: Podcast, blogs, videos and more

Category: Meditation (Page 1 of 2)

#BlogElul: Seek connections and you will find them #takeaseatmakeafriend

August 20, 2013 /

There is something very powerful about contemplating all the ways in which we are connected to everything and everyone else. What arises as we start to trace all the lines? Responsibility, empathy, patience, dedication, determination, desire, awe … ?

We live in a society that emphasizes independence, liberty, individual choice. But, like the story of the man who drills a hole under his own seat in the boat and cannot understand why his fellow passenger complains… no one is an island. Everything is connected. Meditate on this. Grasping the profound implication of this Truth can transform us.

Entering ‘The Ritual Lab’: the purpose of creative services

May 2, 2013 /

cross-posted from the Rabbis Without Borders Blog at myjewishlearning.com

During my first year with a new congregation, I’ve been offering a creative service slot once a month. Borrowing the term from Rabbi Hayyim Herring’s book, ‘Tomorrow’s Synagogues Today’, our ‘Ritual Lab’ Shabbat lets congregants know to come expecting the unexpected for that particular service. Over the course of the year, some services have been more experimental in format than others – more or less similar to the flow and musical styles of our regular Shabbat worship – but each have had a specific goal in mind.

My ‘training’, such as it was, for shaping these creative services came from the Jewish Renewal movement, having spent many years praying with these communities and creating prayer services in that context prior to my formal rabbinic studies. There, one of the terms coined is ‘interpretive davenning‘ – a way of entering the prayer experience in an interpretive mode so that there is a sense of narrative and conscious spiritual journeying that accompanies the flow from one prayer in our liturgy to the next. Different modes may be explored to accompany particular prayers in a way that helps to peel back the layers of history, poetry, and other aspects of meaning found in each prayer. Each of these modes helps to uncover something of the meaning of the prayer, or highlights an aspect of personal spiritual reflection that a prayer might help to highlight. Sometimes it is the mind that is engaged, and sometimes it is something more experiential that helps us see the words of prayer as vehicles for getting beyond words; in many ways this can be the deepest experience of prayer. Such modes can include meditation chanting, movement, dance, study/discussion of a prayer text in pairs, juxtaposing traditional prayers with other kinds of texts to create new readings and meanings, and more.

I so often hear congregants say that the words of our traditional liturgy get in the way of being able to find spirituality in the Jewish communal prayer experience.This is partially because we lack the tools in our spiritual toolbox to unpack the layers of meaning and possibility found in those prayers. But it is also because the sheer amount of words can be overwhelming so that we cannot possibly derive significant meaning from all of them in every service. Of course, not everyone enters into prayer with this expectation – for those who pray in a more traditional mode, it is the overall ritual and rhythm of the familiar prayers that provide the vessel for taking time out to enter into a different mode that is the primary experience. But for many Jews, and certainly in what has been, historically, the more rationally-focused Reform movement’s approach to prayer, the perceived lack of meaning gets in the way for many individuals seeking a spiritual practice that truly touches and transforms them.

In our ‘Ritual Lab’ services, typically two things happen simultaneously; the prayer service becomes a vehicle through which we can attach a learning experience on an infinite number of topics and, at the same time, the materials or experiences we weave into the service brings a new sense of meaning to the individual prayers that have always been there. The next time we pray our way through our traditional liturgy, we bring the insights from these interpretive experiences with us, and they forever change our understanding of and relationship to these traditional prayers.

So, for example, the Shabbat of Thanksgiving weekend, we held a drumming worship service, juxtaposing insights from Native American spiritual traditions with Jewish ideas and writings that resonated with similar insights. During Pesach we held a ‘Song of Songs Shabbat’ that raised awareness of the Song of Songs being read at Pesach, introduced Jewish mantra chanting into the worship experience, explored the mystical roots of Kabbalat Shabbat and the connections to Song of Songs, and highlighted the nature imagery in our traditional prayers and our own spiritual experiences in nature. Sometimes I’ve been intentionally provocative. For example, there is great ambivalence in the Jewish world about acknowledging Halloween in any way in our Jewish community. I personally don’t feel that this is a useful battle to pursue, given the place of this day in American popular culture and the families and children who delight in the modern expressions of dressing up and going trick-or-treating. Instead, the Friday night closest to Halloween became a time to weave teachings about Ghosts, ghouls and demons found in Jewish folk and mystical tradition into the fabric of our service, demonstrating how some specific prayer and ritual traditions that we still have today may have their roots in these stories and beliefs.

For some of our more regularly attending worshipers, these services have become a highlight. They tell me that the format offers a way for them to be exposed to different kinds of spiritual practice and ways to pray that are accessible and can be internalized, while also providing a forum for learning in a setting other than an adult learning class. The feedback tells me that these creative services are fulfilling their purpose. I look forward to another year of experimentation in our Ritual Lab.

#BlogElul 3: The intentions of the ‘other’

August 20, 2012 /

If you’ve been following along since last week’s blog posting, you’ll know that I’m blogging throughout the Jewish month of Elul on daily themes created by my colleague, Rabbi Phyllis Sommer.  If you use Twitter, you’ll be able to see many posts by many bloggers on the daily theme by following #BlogElul.
Today’s theme is Intentions.

Yesterday’s post was about inventories.  As I reflected on taking stock of our own character trait inventories, I used judgment as an example. I’m aware that this is a character trait that I’ve worked on over a period of years.  While I am always going to be ‘a work in progress’, I know that I’ve been able to adjust how this particular trait plays out in my own life.  Today’s theme – Intentions – has a lot to do with how I’ve been able to make some progress in this area.

In any given day, we experience effects caused by the words and actions of many other people. If we are able to be truly mindful about what is happening, we might be able to clearly identify the act.  We might also be able to clearly identify how we are feeling.  But, for most of us, we rarely possess such clarity.  Rather, somebody does or says something, it invokes a feeling in us, and we then construct a whole story about it.  And this is what gets us into trouble.

Let me provide an example.  Someone ignores you when you are waiting for attention in a store.  Or cuts in front of you in a line or on the highway.  Our judgmental voice – the one that rings out with a righteous sense of right and wrong, fair and unfair, steps in. Our ego is bruised.  ‘Why do they think they are more important than me that they need to go first and ignore my needs?’ ‘What a selfish person to think that they don’t need to wait patiently like the rest of us.’  ‘Doesn’t that driver realize the enormous harm they could cause if I hadn’t noticed them and put my foot on the brake – how reckless and irresponsible!’

But the truth is, while we may have been unfortunate enough to interact with an individual who thinks and behaves in these ways, there are many other possible stories we could tell.  ‘That shop attendant needs me to gently turn their attention my way; they are lost in thought because they are worried about their ailing mother in the hospital.’  ‘That driver just received a call that their kid got hit by the ball in lacrosse and was taken to the emergency room – they are getting there as quickly as they can.’

Notice how these completely different stories transform your emotional response to the very same set of circumstances.  In mindfulness practice, being aware of what is real and what is the story we tell ourselves about our experience of that reality is one of the gifts we can receive from meditation.  In Buddhist meditation, ‘Suffering’ is understood as a psycho-spiritual condition we often inflict upon ourselves by remaining attached to stories that may or may not be accurate, and serve no useful purpose as we try to live our best lives.

So learning that I cannot assume the intentions of the other can release me from a lot of the hurt that I might be feeling.  If I have a difficult interaction with someone, finding a way to enquire about their intentions can be the opening to a conversation.  Perhaps I will just listen and gain a new insight into the essence of another.  Or perhaps I will feel a need to explain to them that, while they may have intended one thing, I experienced it in another way.  It may be important that they gain some awareness of my responses to certain things.  We come to better know each other and, perhaps, to act with more consciousness and sensitivity to each other’s needs.  And, as I come to realize that the intentions of the ‘other’ may not be what I first assumed to be so, I may gain greater awareness of the ways in which my own intentions can be misunderstood or misinterpreted by others.  Learning this about ourselves and about others can help us to lessen the voice of judgment and strengthen the voice of compassion within us.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Meditating on the Menorah for Chanukah

December 1, 2010 /

This Chanukah, I will be spending the first few days of the festival at a silent meditation retreat.  The retreat is being held at The Garrison Institute and will be led by Sylvia Boorstein and Sharon Salzberg.  It isn’t specifically a retreat on the themes of Chanukah.  Rather, the focus will be on some of the central themes of meditation practice – cultivating compassion, generosity and integrity.  But for me, personally, there is a connection to the spiritual message of Chanukah.

The story of the little jar of oil that miraculously lasted for eight days instead of one is the eternal story of keeping the flame of hope alive, even in dark times.  Rabbi Akiva taught that, once the lights of the menorah in the Temple in Jerusalem could no longer be kept alight at all times, following the destruction of the 2nd temple in 70 CE, we now had to understand the commandment to keep the fires burning at all times as a metaphor for the fires of the spirit and faith within.

In Jewish tradition, we are blessed with the practice of Shabbat – a weekly opportunity to replenish our little jar of oil that can help to sustain us.  Our lives can become so busy and stressed that we fail to allow the space to just breathe and notice where we are.  To take one day, or even one hour, to simply be and reflect can help us refocus on where we are, who we are, and where we want to be in our lives.  Meditation practice is one way to create a vessel to help us to do this on a regular basis in our own lives.  Taking an extended period of time in a meditation retreat can help deepen the practice and expose us to the possibilities that the practice can reveal to us.

Many cannot afford the luxury of a 4 day retreat – this is my first in over 6 years.  For me, it is a time of re-dedication to my own spiritual practice.  Chanukah means dedication, originally referring to the re-dedication of the Temple after the Maccabees regained control of Jerusalem from the Syrian-Greeks.  For me, it is a way to keep the fires burning at all times, ensuring that they do not go out.

Below is an opportunity to bring just a little meditation into your celebrations of Chanukah this year – just 15 minutes from Rabbi Miriam Klotz, from a podcast from the Institute of Jewish Spirituality.  You can find more podcasts and meditations at their website here.

Happy Chanukah – may your light within never go out, and may you be like the shamash – the one who lights the flames within others by the things that you do and the way that you walk in the world.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Rabbi Myriam Klotz – Chanukah Meditation .mp3
Found at bee mp3 search engine

Elul Reflections 1: Beginning the Conversation

August 10, 2010 /

The four Hebrew letters that spell the month, ‘Elul’ are encoded, our tradition teaches us, with multiple meanings, each an acronym using these four letters.  The one that is best known is shown above – ‘Ani L’dodi V’dodi Li’ – I am my beloved and my beloved is mine.


As we enter this month, with an invitation to reflect and prepare for Rosh Hashanah – The Jewish New Year – and Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement, Elul comes to bring us an important message.  The essence of love is also the essence of prayer – it is all about relationship.  But many of us find the idea of a relationship with God difficult.  We may not feel it; we may not know how to create it; we do not know what to say, or we feel foolish ‘saying’ anything to the Divine Presence which we cannot define or grasp.  We may have some clarity about what we don’t believe, but far less about what we do.


Beginning is the hardest part.  The questions and the doubts get in the way.  But what if, today, on the 1st of Elul, we responded to the invitation by committing ourselves to a month of spiritual practice? Something each day that we read and reflect upon, a time set aside for meditation or prayer.


Prayer can be a loaded word.  It conjures up images of subjects addressing kings on thrones – that is the ancient language in which many of our Jewish prayers were cast, and it takes time and practice to break through the allegorical barriers of the words and see the human desires, hopes, and yearnings that they point toward.  But we can start with something simple.  This month of Elul is a time to return to matters of the spirit; to brush away some of the distractions of the material world, at least for a short time, to remind ourselves of who we truly are, who we wish to be, and to ask ourselves whether our daily actions and deeds are truly reflective of the call of our soul.  We come to realize that we’ve been feeding some of the emptiness we feel with the wrong things, and we know they are wrong because the emptiness or the unease, the fears and anxieties aren’t going away.  Before we can spend some time trying to understand what lies behind these feelings and how we might address them, it is good to first spend some time affirming what we seek.  These can be different things for different people, but I suspect most of us would seek to affirm the following:

May I feel protected and safe
May I feel contented and pleased
May my physical body support me with strength

These affirmations are from Sylvia Boorstein, a Jew who is a practitioner and master teacher of Buddhist meditation, and they are her rendition of some of Buddhism’s ‘Metta’ affirmations – a practice of lovingkindness.  The practice can help to calm our own minds and bring clarity to the spiritual desires of our own hearts.  The next step is to bring to mind loved ones and friends and ask these things for them too.  Eventually, over time, the practice invites you to bring to mind those you have difficulties with; those you find it less easy to love or even to like.  I offer these affirmations here because I find that they resonate with the deepest yearnings of the soul and are quite universal.  For those of us who get a little stuck with ‘Blessed are You, O God, Ruler of the Universe…’ they offer another way in to reach toward the Divine.

In Dani Shapiro’s spiritual memoir, ‘Devotion’, which I will be referring to on several occasions during this High Holyday season, she describes her first experience of being introduced to this practice with Sylvia Boorstein.  Unsure of the metaphysical question – whom are we addressing – Sylvia explains that we don’t need to have worked that out; perhaps we are simply expressing a wish.  As Dani reflects upon this answer, she writes:
But really, what did it mean to fervently, wholeheartedly name a desire?  May you feel protected and safe.  To speak out of a deep yearning – to set that yearning loose in the world?  May you feel contented and pleased.  Could a wish be a less fraught word for a prayer?…  Maybe faith had to do with holding up one end of the dialog.

This is how we begin.  A daily practice, whether using the affirmations above, or simply sitting quietly and finding a way to express the deepest yearnings of your heart.  Let us begin the conversation and see where, during this month of Elul, it may take us.

During this month I will continue to post some of these reflective pieces, and they will be interspersed by postings from other clergy and educators at Congregation B’nai Israel, and postings from congregants who will offer their own reflections and experiences of the High Holyday season.  Please do use the comments to reflect on any of the postings, or email me at rgurevitz@congregationbnaiisrael.org if you have a longer piece that you would like to share.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

… And it is good for your health too!

November 17, 2009 /
While in the midst of my current blog series on meditation from within the Jewish tradition, the findings of a nine year long medical trial have just been released, suggesting that patients with heart disease are significantly less likely to have a heart attack or a stroke if they have a daily meditation practice.
The BBC reports on the findings here.
While the research used transcendental meditation as the specific form of practice in the study, the basic foundation of mindful breathing meditation is universal to all approaches and traditions.  The use of meditation practice as a tool in stress reduction and pain management has been developed and taught most effectively by Jon Kabat-Zinn and you can learn more about his Center for Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care, and Society here.
It makes sense that a daily meditation practice would be good for your health.  It is a calming and relaxing practice, and it has been shown to lower blood pressure.  Kabat-Zinn’s Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction Program includes a meditative activity called ‘the Body Scan’ (which is described in some detail in his book ‘Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain, and Illness’.  It involves moving the mind through the different regions of the body, bringing attention to the feelings, and letting the breath flow through each and every part.  You are both helping to relax areas of tension, but also breathing in energy that can revitalize the physical self.  Kabat-Zinn has found that this technique has helped people with chronic pain.
What was also interesting about the medical study that has just been published is that one of the factors possibly involved in the improved health of the cohort who practiced meditation is not only the positive impact of the meditation itself, but the fact that almost everyone in that cohort was still practicing 20 minutes of daily meditation after 9 years.  The cohort in the study whose treatment had involved bringing attention to diet were far less likely to have kept to a healthier regime – it was much more difficult to maintain discipline and change eating habits than to maintain a daily meditation practice.
So, while I will continue to share some of the spiritual insights of meditation practice from a Jewish perspective, its good to know that, whether it be for body or soul, meditation is good for you!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz 

Playing in the Symphony. Jewish Meditation, part 4

November 11, 2009 /

Kol haneshama t’hallel Yah, Hallelu Yah (Psalm 150:6)
Let every neshama praise God.  Hallelu Yah.
This is the last line of the last psalm in the Book of Psalms – it is the culmination of so many words of poetry, prayer, contemplation and praise.  The psalm is part of every Jewish morning service, and it is equally a part of many Christian worship services.  And, to add to its universality, many synagogue communities today have become familiar with a melody that just chants this last line over and over again, and that melody was an adaptation of a Pakistani Sufi chant (the mystical, and most universal form of Islam) written by the late Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Six words.  On face value, just a simple declaration of praise.  Six words that are a gateway to an awesome experience (awesome, as in ‘wow!’ and awesome as in ‘Oh boy, that’s overwhelming, I don’t know if I can handle that’).

It begins with that Hebrew word that I didn’t translate – neshama.  Biblically, it means something like ‘living thing’.  So sometimes you’ll see a translation that says ‘Let every living thing praise God’, or ‘Let everything that lives praise God’.  But the rabbis of ancient times took a look at the creation story in Genesis and found in the second description of how God created human beings the line, ‘And God blew into his nostrils the breath of life (nishmat chayyim), and the man became a living thing (nefesh chayyah) (Gen. 2:7).  They understood this to mean not only the ability to breathe, by which we are alive, but that the aspect of our selves that ‘enlivens’ us – the God-given part – is what we call our soul.  And so, for the rabbis, neshama also means soul.  In fact, in an ancient midrash (expounding on the Torah), they describe 5 different names that were given to the spirit by which we live (Midrash rabbah 14:9), enabling them to describe and explore different aspects or attributes of the soul, of which the neshama is just one.

The final element of this teaching that we need to put it together with a mantra meditation practice on this verse of Psalm 150 requires us to know that, in the Hebrew language, all words are formed around a ‘root’ of three consonant letters.  Changing the vowel sound, or the grammar, can change how we would translate the word into English, but the common root in Hebrew teaches us that the words are conceptually and experientially linked.  And so, if you look again at the verse from Genesis, you’ll see the word nishmat chayyim – the breath of life.  N’shimah means ‘breath’.  And so, in the ancient teaching of the midrash, we find that Rabbi Levi says in the name of Rabbi Hanina,: “at each and every breath (neshima) which you breathe, you must praise the Creator” What is the meaning of this? “Kol ha neshama tehallel Ya, Let everything that has breath praise God (Psalm 150, 6).

Jewish mystics turned the phrase one more time, and this becomes the foundation for our meditation practice – let each and every breath be a praise to God.

It is through the act of breathing that we can bring awareness to the Divine spirit that gives life to everything.  With this awareness comes gratitude, an opening of the heart, and from this comes praise.  When we meditate on the breath with this awareness, it takes us beyond ‘my breath’ and connects us to everything that breathes.  We become but one musician in an orchestra; we are responsible for how we play our instrument and the contribution we make with each and every note we play, but we are able to do and be so much more than is possible within our own limitations, when we recognize that we are part of the symphony.

This meditation, connecting us to life itself, and to the Source of all life, cannot be grasped with the mind, but it can be experienced, at least in brief moments.  And it not only transforms our awareness of the power of the breath, it also transforms the meaning of what it is to ‘Praise God.’  That will have to wait for another day’s blog.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

The breath of all life: Jewish meditation part 3

November 8, 2009 /

Continuing contemplations on the spiritual wisdom emerging from the breath, today I share teachings that I have gleaned from some of my teachers, Rabbi Arthur Waskow, Rabbi Jeff Roth, Rabbi David Cooper and Shoshana Cooper.  Opportunities to study and practice with these teachers directly can be found at The Awakened Heart Project and at Rabbi Cooper’s website.

We know from science that the air that we breathe in is air that the trees and plants have breathed out, and the air that we breath out is the air that the trees and plants breath in.  But to know these things intellectually is quite different from knowing experientially.  Contemplative meditation on the breath can open us to the experience of our interconnectedness with all life in a profound way.  Jewish wisdom guides us to understand this experience as a God experience.  Sometimes our inability to see it that way is more about our choice to claim that label for what we know, instinctively, to be a deeply spiritual awakening and realization.  But the Torah points us toward the truth of this realization when Moses asks God how he should explain to the enslaved Hebrews who it is that has sent him.  God responds:
Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh  (Exodus 3:14)

The hebrew letters in the first and third word revolve around the verb that means ‘to be’.  Biblical hebrew has two basic grammatical forms – the ‘perfect’ (something that has happened/has been completed) and the ‘imperfect’ (something that is in process/ongoing).  And so, encapsulated in this label is the teaching that God is constantly in the process of being; some would understand this to point to God as Existence itself.  And, in our world of experience, our ability to exist in this moment, and the next moment, begins with the breath.  

Many Jewish translations of the Torah do not translate this phrase, because to do so using the English language would limit something that is pointing us to the Infinite.  It is not dissimilar from this teaching from another wisdom tradition:
The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.

The name that can be named is not the eternal name.

The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth.
The named is the mother of ten thousand things.
Ever desireless, one can see the mystery
Ever desiring, one can see the manifestations.
These two spring from the same source but differ in name;
This appears as darkness.
Darkness within darkness.
The gate to all mystery.
(Lao Tsu)

And, drawing from early Jewish philosophical teachings:
And God said, “At first say unto them, ‘I am that I am, ‘ that, when they have learnt that there is a difference between Him that is and him that is not, they may be further taught that there is no name whatever that can properly be assigned to Me, who am the only being to whom existence belongs. –Philo, from Plaut, p 408 (both this and the preceding quote are found at bluethread.com).
There is much to contemplate here, and the next posting will offer some paths from the practice of Jewish chant – mantra meditation – that can deepen our understanding of these teachings.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Just Breathe: Jewish meditation, part 2.

November 5, 2009 /

Why do so many meditation practices, found in so many spiritual traditions, begin with the breath?  Something so simple as breathing in and breathing out?  Breathing is something we do every moment of our existence in this world.  So simple, and yet it teaches us so, so much.  In meditation practice we wish to bring our attention to this moment – to sense what it really is to exist in the present.  So simple?  Where else would we be?  Well, try it.  Close your eyes and just gently bring your attention to the sensation of breathing in and out.  Notice how the air comes in and, at a certain point, the air goes out again.  If you notice your mind wander, or you start to think of other things, as soon as you notice that that is what you are doing, gently bring your attention back to noticing your breathing – the air going in and going out.

Chances are, if you are like most of us, you’ll notice certain things.  One of them might be, as you begin, ‘am I doing this right?’  To that question, I answer with another question – ‘what were you doing the moment before you closed your eyes and brought your attention to your breath?’  I’m guessing that you were probably breathing.  Were you worried then about whether you were doing it right?  So notice how quickly we move to judgment, even on something as basic as breathing.  Being present to this moment means just noticing what is arising right now.  As soon as we make a judgment about it – its nice, ugly, distracting, good, bad… that is something additional, and it removes us from just being fully present to what is.  Its completely natural and human, and so don’t get annoyed with yourself when you notice judgment arising – that’s another judgment!  Just notice, and let it pass by.

You’ll also notice, if you are watching the breath, that there is a certain moment when the in-breath ceases and out-breath begins.  Don’t try to control it – just notice as it comes in and out.  There is constant change in our universe – nothing stays the same, and most of it just happens, irrespective of our agency.  Fear of not being in control is something that many of us experience.  Extended meditation practice with this awareness can help us to find peace and acceptance with what is, and this is an ingredient of a profoundly spiritual, joyful life, even in the midst of great challenges and painful experiences.

Finally, for today’s posting, when we meditate on our breath, most of us notice that it doesn’t take more than a few breaths before our mind gets crowded with lots of other thoughts.  That doesn’t mean we ‘failed’ meditation 101 (remember – no judgments!).  Each time we notice that our mind is busy and bring our attention back to this breath and this moment, we are doing precisely what we are meant to be doing in a moment of meditation. And when we begin to notice where our minds went right before we brought our attention back to the breath, we notice that we spend much of our time in either the past or the future, but very little of it being in the present.

So much spiritual wisdom in just one breath.  And this is just the beginning.  More blog postings will offer further reflection and teaching, particularly for those interested in learning about meditation, and some of the spiritual wisdom of Judaism on mindful meditation.  Please do feel free to offer your insights, experiences and questions via our ‘comments’ section (which you can do anonymously if you prefer).
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

3 Cheshvan. Entering the world of the spirit through Jewish mindfulness

October 21, 2009 /

As we move forward from Tishrei, filled with Jewish holidays bringing renewal and beginning again, into the month of Cheshvan, empty of Jewish festival dates, I’ve been working on a number of new activities that point to the potential of emptiness and simplicity as the doorway into deeper spiritual awareness in our everyday lives.  I’ve been teaching mindfulness meditation to a group of teenagers at our cross-communal Jewish high school program, Merkaz, and I’ve also been bringing a brief introduction to meditative practices to our 5th and 6th graders before we pray our abridged evening service together at Religious School.  Next month I am launching a new meditation and chanting hour at a local holistic healing center, the Soma Center for Well-Being, with a member of our congregation, Andrea Rudolph.  And this Shabbat, a group of 21 women from the congregation are joining me for our 2nd one day retreat, this year on the theme of Interactive meditation – how mindfulness practices impact on our everyday activities and interactions with others and the world around us.

There are many venues for practicing meditation, and they do not necessarily have to sit within a religious or spiritual framework.  However, different frameworks emphasize different dimensions of the practice and, for me, the spiritual connection is an extremely important and powerful aspect of mindfulness.

Many people are drawn to mindfulness meditation as a relaxation technique – a way of creating space and silence, to just breathe, and take a break from the stress and hectic nature of the rest of their lives.  There is no question that meditation practice can be deeply relaxing.  In fact, it is not unusual for some people to fall asleep during a meditation practice, so calming can it be to tune in to the rhythm of your breathing, or chant a mantra over and over.  But, from a spiritual perspective, meditation is not about tuning out and falling asleep… its about waking up!  Mindfulness is about becoming aware of this moment.  You might think that you are always present in this moment… where else would you be?  But when we sit quietly and do something as ‘simple’ as just noticing our breath coming in and going out, most of us soon notice how hard it is to stay focused on that one thing.  And when we begin to notice what our mind is doing, we notice that we spend a great deal of time in the past or in the future, but very little time actually being fully present to right now.

I’d like to share some insights and practices from a Jewish approach to mindfulness meditation in coming posts because, in addition to the awareness and growth that can come to each of us as individuals when we engage in mindfulness meditation practices, there are mindfulness practices and teachings that come from our Jewish wisdom traditions that show us that it is through our presence – to this moment, to our deepest selves, to our planet, and to each other – that we can access an experience of The Presence.  Bringing this awareness into our lives not only helps us to walk through our lives being more awake, but can infuse the rituals and practices that have been handed down to us through Jewish communities and families with a power that can reawaken our passion for meaningful engagement with Jewish living and celebration.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

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