A Muddy Moment Before the New Year
It is not unusual to get to the end of a NARM session and to feel that we are really in the middle of a lot of muddiness. Things may have been opened up, but nothing has been resolved; there is definitely no pretty bow to tie all the loose ends together. This is completely normal, of course, although it doesn’t always feel so good. There is a reason that we use metaphors of journeys and paths when we talk about trauma healing.
I am feeling the same way as we come to the end of 5784 and contemplate the beginning of the new Jewish year. What a hard year it has been! So much has been torn open; nothing is resolved. And what is the path forward? Many people I know are expressing doubt and even pessimism. So as we get ready to usher in the new year, it is useful to pause for a moment and reflect on the muddy state we are in.
I recently had the delight of hearing my friend Rabbi Adina Allen discuss her new book, The Place of All Possibility. One particularly powerful section of the book reminds us that according to Genesis, God began creating the world against a backdrop of tohu vavohu, chaos and the void. In fact, Adina says, “[r]ather than being seen as undesirable elements that stand in the way of creation, God embraces the darkness, depths, chaos and void as generative. And as human beings made in God’s image, we can too.” How exactly do we do this? Adina refers to Genesis 1:2 which describes the breath of God fluttering over the face of the water as a model of God “staying with what is so that it can transform into what could be.”
This move of staying with what is, exactly as it is, in all its muddiness, is at the heart of so much spiritual wisdom. It is a difficult teaching to take in; who can bear to stay where we are, even for a few breaths? Of course we want to turn away and get to wherever it is we hope we are going as quickly as possible. But when we do that, we forsake one of our most precious tools: the creativity that emerges from presence.
I’ve been reflecting on this insight with relation to the traditional daily reading of the Song of the Sea, the song the Israelites sang after crossing the Reed Sea, as part of the morning service. Talk about muddy: the Siddur (prayerbook) brings us right to the place of despair, the vast sea before us, Pharaoh’s army behind us, no place to go. We pause there for a moment, sand beneath our feet. We have no answers, no escape, our bodies yearn for freedom. And then a completely unexpected possibility appears: the sea opens. No, we haven’t arrived at the Promised Land yet, but the journey continues. What a powerful reminder every morning!
And all the more so before Rosh Hashanah. Pause for a moment before the New Year begins. What elements of the chaos and void can you bring your presence to? What questions do you not have the answers to? What are your heart’s desires for the year ahead? Is it possible to be with those yearnings without figuring anything out? What is the place of the deepest mud in your life right now? Is there a blessing or a song or a piece of art that might emerge from it?
May all the potential goodness that is surely here in this very moment come to beautiful fruition in the year ahead. Shanah tovah umetukah! A sweet and happy New Year!