Earth Etude for Elul 22 - Ani L'dodi V'dodi Li

by Daniel Kieval

The Hebrew letters of "Elul" are said to spell out ani l'dodi v'dodi li -- I am for my beloved and my beloved is for me.

I invite you to listen to this song as a message of love being sung uniquely to you -- perhaps from the Divine, perhaps from the Earth, perhaps from your own Inner Beloved. You might try listening with each of these lenses and seeing what happens.

Whoever the singer is, they are continually and faithfully offering their love and the possibility of relationship. Will you reciprocate? "I will be for you; will you be for me?"

Daniel Kieval · Ani L'Dodi

Ani l'dodi v'dodi li

I will be for you
Will you be for me?

Hoping for you I wait
Turn my heart to this simple state
I will forgive
So you may live
With love in every breath I give

Ani l'dodi v'dodi li
I will be for you
Will you be for me?

It is your face I seek
My gentle fingers upon your cheek
And in your eyes
I see surprise
As holy sparks in you arise

Ani l'dodi v'dodi li
I will be for you
Will you be for me?

And when we burst into light
In the darkest of the night
Then you will see
We can be free
If you will come back home to me

Daniel Kieval is a musician, naturalist, and educator living in western Massachusetts.

Earth Etude for Elul 21 - Of Fences, Barriers, and Trees

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

לְדָוִ֨ד ׀ יְה ׀ אוֹרִ֣י וְ֭יִשְׁעִי מִמִּ֣י אִירָ֑א יְה מָֽעוֹז־חַ֝יַּ֗י מִמִּ֥י אֶפְחָֽד׃ 

Of David. Adonai is my light and my help; whom should I fear? Adonai is the stronghold of my life, whom should I dread? (v.1)

Of David, God is my life-force and my wholeness: whom would I fear? God is my fortress of strength for my life, whom would I dread?  (per Rabbi Ora Weiss)

In Elul, we begin reading Psalm 27, and continue through Yom Kippur and to Shmini Atzeret.

During Elul, I am thinking about fences and trees. Fences being put up, and trees being taken down.

I'm feeling fences and trees. Wondering why it isn't fences being taken down and trees being planted.

Fences and barriers of all kinds, the rejection of connection, out of fear or anger or hatred. 

Mostly fear, I'd say.

Trees, the embodiment of connection. Under the ground, out of sight, connecting to every other tree in their neighborhood, supporting them, building true community.

Sometimes we humans do need fences. We can't handle the connections. 

Introvert, loner-self that I am, more often than I sometimes like to admit.

Yet, like trees, we can't live without each other. 

But we want to limit “each other,” rather than including everyone. 

Denying the reality is that we are as connected as the trees.

We are part of something larger than ourselves, and literally dependent on all of it.

We are all in this together, barriers or no, people we like or not, agree with or not. 

That ALL is really hard to admit to. No matter where we stand.

We all breathe the same air. 

Though for those less privileged the air is less clean.

We all need to breathe to survive. 

No matter our color.

Trees know this better than we.

In this time of fences and barriers - visible and invisible - 

in this time of teshuvah,

what does it mean for me to return to G!d? 

What does it mean to seek forgiveness for my need to be alone?
For my fears?

For my desire - my need - for fences and barriers?

How do I forgive the fences and barriers of others?

The felled trees? 

The suffocated people?

Should I? Must I?

קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְה֫וָ֥ה חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְהוָֽה׃ 

Look to the LORD; be strong and of good courage! O look to the LORD! (v. 14)

Wait for God, be strong and strengthen your heart and wait for God. (per Rabbi Ora Weiss)

O G!d, I am looking to You. Please help me find the strength and courage to figure out the fences and the barriers, both mine and others'. Help me figure out felled trees. Please help me, today, and again, as I wait, tomorrow and tomorrow and every day. 

Rabbi Katy Allen is the founder and rabbi of Ma'yan Tikvah - A Wellspring of Hope, which holds services outdoors all year long, and the co-founder and President pro-tem of the Jewish Climate Action Network-MA. She is a board certified chaplain and a former hospital and hospice chaplain and now considers herself an eco-chaplain. She received her ordination from the Academy for Jewish Religion in  Yonkers, NY in 2005 and lives in Wayland, MA with her spouse, Gabi Mezger, who leads the.singing at Ma'yan Tikvah.

Earth Etudes for Elul 20 - Elul 2020

by Judith Felsen, Ph.D.

 

Is this You? 
Your eyes behind the mask
search lights beaming, 
bridging gaps of social distance,
gazes merge in glances 
momentary soul connection 
 
Is this You? 
Body wracked
breath ventilated
clinging to existence
space suited team in rescue
heroism humbly shared  
facing of death
 
Is this You? 
Twisted pain contorted reason
human armed,
weapons fired in hate
murder of resentment
revenge, retaliation
mind and deed in separated state

Is this You?

Marching, bannered, shouting, chanting,
claiming, presence, voices heard
constructing deconstructing 
challenging our history 
standing firm
creating our tomorrow
 
Is this You?
Planet ailing, melting, dying,
groaning for a consciousness
ending of abuse
pleading for a chance to live  
supporting life tomorrow
 
Is this You?
A country split, divided, torn apart
conflict without resolution
language hijacked 
Babel’s fate in modern times
reaction without reconciliation
union shatters, grief presides
 
Is this You? 
In terror, plague and hate
thirteen qualities 
revealed, requested or expressed 
attributes of You 
hidden or displayed
expression and constriction
creation and destruction
must be You

Is this You? 

Is this Your invitation,
our meeting in the field 
destination in our daily lives 
path to transform pain for good 
converting deeds of hate to acts of mercy 
meeting daily in the  field
bringing Sparks 
seeing You in all 
our journey home 
with You

© J.Felsen, Ph.D. 7/29/20

Judith Felsen, Ph.D. is a N.Y.S. Licensed Clinical Psychologist who resides in Bartlett, N.H. at the edge of the White Mt. National Forest. Judith is a lover of and advocate for nature and all life, a hiker, walker, dancer, meditator, poetess, volunteer, gardener, wife and dog mother of two rescue dogs. She offers consulting upon request and spends time practicing and studying various treatment and healing modalities. She is on the board of the Bethlehem Hebrew Congregation, the Mt. Washington Valley Havurah and Neskaya Center for Movement Arts. Since Covid-19 Judith and Jack, her husband, have lived in Long Beach, New York where she practices, walks the beach, boardwalk and delights in the garden Jack cultivated. Judith participates in virtual services and is active in the Jewish community of both New Hampshire and New York. This year, Judith and her husband were awarded the JFNH Shem Tov Award for work on Holocaust and Genocide Education, related studies and offerings to the public and other organizations and audiences. Judith and Jack are second generation survivors and work to enhance the end of genocide for all.

Earth Etude for Elul 19 - A Tomato, A Single Tomato

by Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein

Six months

Inside, a cocoon

Finding my authentic self

Learning and relearning new skills

Baking challah

Chanting Torah

Painting seascapes

Planting

Herbs for more flavor

Cucumbers for pickles

And tomatoes

I’ve never done well at gardening

But this year 

This year

Success!

There, right there

It is right there.

A tomato

A single tomato

Ripe

Ready for harvesting

Juicy,

Dew glistening on its fire engine red skin

One perfect tomato

Not like from the store

Not like a winter tomato devoid of flavor

This one.

This very one.

Cocooned against the cucumber leaves

Resting and gathering strength like me

An authentic, real tomato.

Perfect.

One bite

One single tomato

Symbol of this pandemic.

Last year for Earth Etudes I wrote about our community garden at Congregation Kneseth Israel. I also spoke about it as part of Gail Borden Public Library’s Earth Day videos. I filmed it before we planted this year. Even before everything was shut down and programming went virtual. I don’t usually do much hands-on work in the garden, but it is doing really well at CKI. We have been feeding the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the marginalized since May. Kale, spinach, carrots, radishes, tomatoes and lots and lots of cucumbers. Our neighbors love them, especially the cucumbers. And it is a perfect example of “Love your neighbor as yourself.” I’ve lost count of the number of deliveries that Congregation Kneseth Israel has made to the soup kettle at Holy Trinity Church, right across the street. It really is Unity on Division Street. 

This year I decided I would try my hand at home. I have been writing lots, trying new skills and polishing up old ones. In the middle of a pandemic I was trying my best to lead an authentic Jewish life, for me. It fit with what I was doing for Earth Day, the fact that my husband has an agriculture degree from the Michigan State and suddenly I had, in theory, more time. So we planted. The container herbs have seasoned our food all season. The cucumbers produced nothing (but we did make pickles from cucumbers we bought at the farmer’s market). But the tomatoes? Every week we get one or a handful of perfect, flavorful, ripe tomatoes. 

Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein is the rabbi of Congregation Kneseth Israel, in Elgin Illinois. She blogs as the Energizer Rabbi and serves on several local boards. She helped the City of Elgin plan this year’s 50^th Anniversary of Earth Day, the programming all of which went virtual. She is the author of two books, Climbing Towards Yom Kippur about the 13 Attributes of the Divine and Enduring Spirit about the cycle of the Jewish year. 

Earth Etude for Elul 18 - A Meditation in Nature

by Rabbi Susan Eldoski

At a retreat two years ago, I was inspired by Rabbi Katy Allen's "walking in nature" Shacharit meditation. I believe there's power in being in nature, as Rabbi Nachman said, but it has been difficult for many during this pandemic. These photos were all taken by me and bring me comfort when I look at them.

Rabbi Susan Elkodsi is the spiritual leader of the Malverne Jewish Center in Malverne, NY. She received ordination from the Academy for Jewish Religion in Yonkers, NY in May of 2015, and prior to that served student pulpits in New York, Connecticut and Massachusetts. In 2019 she received a Rabbinic Certificate in Gerontology and Palliative Care from the Wurzweiler School of Social work at Yeshiva University. Her goal is to create relationships with Baby Boomers and older adults to help find meaning and purpose in their lives with the context of Jewish tradition and teachings, and as part of a Jewish community, in whatever way each individual sees him or herself. Rabbi Elkodsi and her husband, David, have two adult children.

Earth Etude for Elul 17 - The Mask as a Symbol for Life-Sustaining Vision

by Chaplain Rabbi Dr Leslie Schotz

 On this journey of life our 2020 vision 

Forced us to look above our reflections

And mask the face we present to the world. As walking treepeople of the earth we were called to acknowledge the microcosms of life and death staring us into our focus upon breath. 

Beyond our collective comprehension of 2019 the year 2020 brought a vision which called us to see a larger picture of collective responsibility. The world of people were unified in fear and longing for life. Yet we isolated our bodies and nurtured our souls as we continue to heal and connect to the gift of life on earth as our souls learn a new perspective for 2020. May we hold each other in virtual kindness and compassion as the earth heals and people share hope for the future of humanity. A light springs eternal. Can you see it? Can you feel it? Can we be together collectively in our unique destiny for the future of the earth and all its life seen and unseen...... We shall see. We will believe. We long for a loving peaceful  survival.

 

Chaplain Rabbi Dr Leslie Schotz is a Board Certified Chaplain who works as a chaplain in a psychiatric hospital and also at a nursing home as a hospice chaplain. Rabbi Schotz is the author of two books. One is entitled Spiritual Direction for Jewish Children. The other is Congregational Guide to Jewish Meditation. 

Earth Etude for Elul 16 - Harmony of Colors

by Rabbi Robin Damsky

The fingertips of Hurricane Isaías brush the skylights of my sunroom and drench the woods around my house. Tomorrow the guts are expected to touch down a few hours from here. I expect we’ll see the just his shoulder, nonetheless yielding flash floods, downing power lines and trees, with potential tornado winds. The house is well protected. I feel safe

Yet I don’t feel safe in general. The world is reeling from an insidious disease completely preventable. As the icebergs in the polar caps melt, exposing bacteria frozen for hundreds of millennia, as species of plants and animals disappear at an alarming rate, continuing to upset the delicate balance of Creation’s ecosystem, as toxic industry ruins our earth, water, air and soil, we have paved the way for disease to run rampant. 

The disease of the Earth translates into dis-ease for her people. Not only are we dying from COVID-19, we are dying from lack of food, lack of potable drinking water – which is expected to lead the next wave of refugees and immigration, causing more hardship and strife, lack of income and a dearth of earth-friendly business. 

But what we are really dying of is lack of love. Lack of compassion, lack of kindness. 

The human thread that holds us all together, and that binds us successfully to the planet that nourishes us, is severed in so many places. To feel the wounds borne of hate and injustice, to see the violence bleeding out of hearts hardened to simple human decency is the most heartbreaking dis-ease of them all. 

We have to find our way home. Home to gentleness and care, to kindness and tenderness. We must first feed these foods to ourselves. We must hold our own hearts as we grieve, mother and father our own brokenness to help us rise up; stand up straight. And as we learn to treat ourselves with love and care, we nurture the seeds growing inside us – the seeds of healing the planet and all those who reside in and upon it. 

This is what the pandemic is teaching me. That I must go in to my own wounds, many of them old – ancient seeming – and hold them in my arms to permit them to heal. As I sit in the pain I see light. Possibility emerges. It is anew and yet it is the re-emergence of something old – a way of living in harmony with all earth’s creatures and tides. A way that sings with interconnectedness and with beauty effervescing from all of our colors intermingling in harmony.

It’s good work for this Elul. May we find healing light for ourselves, enough to radiate it outward to others and our beloved planet.

© Rabbi Robin Damsky

Robin Damsky is the founder and executive director of In the Gardens: http://inthegardens.org/. She works to bring organic, permaculture garden design along with mindfulness, meditation and movement to communities and individuals to mitigate hunger, to support our planet, and to nourish healthy relationships with self and others. She serves part time as the rabbi of Temple Israel in Gary, IN, and lives in Chapel Hill, NC. 

Earth Etude for Elul 15 - Reverse Tashlich

by Karen L. Grossman

Growing up near Pennsylvania woods and traveling to many beautiful national parks in this country and worldwide, I learned to appreciate nature. After my career as a helping professional, I delved deeper into fostering my love of environmental beauty and caring for people through a local park group and a watershed association.

With recent experiences, I’ve come to understand that just as there are natural connections among animals, trees and plants, a watershed connects communities from suburban to urban, wealthy to impoverished. I’ve seen how working with a watershed association can help create the essential healthy environment for all waterbodies: oceans, rivers, brooks, lakes and ponds, cleaning up the watershed and promoting social equity. 

I was inspired by reading about “Reverse Tashlich,” collecting trash from the ocean’s shoreline, literally gathering the “sins” of others instead of (or in addition to) throwing away our own sins figuratively, “Tashlich” during Elul and the High Holidays. I thought of implementing such an effort in my area, especially with social justice issues coming to the forefront lately. 

With my watershed association’s help, I can promote not just the collection of trash, but many other actions:  

Planting rain gardens to filter rainwater and diminish flooding,

Establishing more greenways along waterbodies for biking and walking and creating public access,

                                                                                                                                          

And pulling water chestnuts to establish healthier rivers that can be navigated.

The Watershed Association monitors illegal pollution into waterbodies. We discourage the use of phosphorous fertilizers from which stormwater runoff produces weed and algae growth and even toxins that are harmful to higher forms of life. Additional actions are:

advocating environmentally healthy weed treatment,

eliminating invasive plants throughout so natural vegetation can thrive to prevent shoreline erosion,

planting trees in urban areas to create shade and reduce global warming, 

and, yes, collecting litter at its source on our streets, in our parks, and in waterbodies, thus, providing more beautiful recreational opportunities, and healthier habitats for all wildlife and for us, too, of course.

“Reverse Tashlich” can anchor Jewish community efforts to care for the health of our natural environment. What we do up stream in a watershed can have a major impact in more urban, social justice communities downstream. As you may know, Covid-19 has a greater impact in those areas partly because the environment is unhealthy.  So, our efforts take away the “sin” of those who do not care for the earth and help to repair the world, “Tikkun Olam.”  That’s really the goal of “Reverse Tashlich.” 

It is a mitzvah to promote “Reverse Tashlich” with friends and temple members in your area as September and the High Holidays draw near, as well as to engage in year-round activities with your watershed association, too.

Karen L. Grossman is a retired speech and language pathologist, a member of Temple Shir Tikvah, Winchester, MA’s Adult Social Committee, past Board member of the Mystic River Watershed Association, presently on the Outreach and Development Committees, and President of the Friends of Spy Pond Park, Arlington, MA.  She welcomes your comments to karen@klgwoman.com regarding the above ideas and refers you to: 

https://www.repairthesea.org/reverse-tashlich, the inspiration for this etude. 

Earth Etudes for Elul 14 - Finding My Authentic Self

by Thea Iberall

I’m sure everyone’s going to write one of these. How hard life has become under a syndemic at the confluence of a fatal pandemic and a raging climate crisis, all of which has exposed centuries-long racial injustices and social disparities. Over 700,000 deaths have occurred due to Covid-19. The climate crisis is causing 150,000 deaths a year. Over 120,000 square kilometers of tropical rainforests are being lost every year. Wildlife populations have dropped by 60%. A majority of victims of police harm are people of color. One in every three black boys in America can expect to go to jail. The daily news reports leave me unable to concentrate. I don’t know how to plan, I’m afraid of doing anything outside—or even to be with people. Going to my grandson’s baseball game could cause my death.

The year 2020 was going to be a big year for me. I had huge expectations, as did millions of other women around the country. This is the 100th anniversary of the ratification of the 19th Amendment to the US Constitution, giving women the right to vote. Celebration plans were in the works for years—for a decade or longer—by organizations from all over the country,: marches, festivals, rallies, performances, readings, plays, films. My performing troupe expected to do dozens of shows. We had charts, letters of agreement, contracts, Excel spreadsheets. Everything has had to be cancelled, postponed, or put online. It’s been painful watching the year 2020 dissolve into protective masks, social distancing, and staring at computer screens.

But that’s the thing about expectation. When I make plans, I expect to carry them out. And if they fall through, I get disappointed. Expectations are about living in the future. Disappointment is pain in the present. It’s not fun. But how can I plan for the future and avoid the pain of disappointment? 

There is another word like expectations: that word is ‘expectancy.’ While expectations prevent us from living in the moment and can lead to disappointment, expectancy involves living with intentionality in a flexible way. It’s about embracing change, looking for the positive. In this month of Elul, a time for returning to God, teshuvah, before the high holidays, it is a good time to turn our expectations into expectancy. This is the hallmark of a spiritual practice.

My wife started a new spiritual practice: a daily online meditation group. Every morning, for the last 140 days, she shares a reading with the group and we all meditate on that and then we share our reflections. We have found this practice is a way to explore our authenticity. As we live on the edge of death in this unbearable syndemic, we think about hard-learned truths and share from our most deepest hearts. 

The year 2020 has turned into a year of connecting on a very deep level, a year when I can go to events I never dreamed possible, a year where people from all over the world can experience my performing troupe. And I am getting more done on all sorts of backburner projects. But what I cannot forget is to keep my focus on teshuvah, the expectancy of a spiritual connection.

We’ll be living these new lives for a long time.

Thea Iberall, PhD, is on the leadership team of the Jewish Climate Action Network-MA. Iberall is the author of The Swallow and the Nightingale, a visionary fiction novel about a 4,000-year-old secret brought through time by the birds. In this fable, she addresses the real moral issue of today: not whom you love, but what we are doing to the planet. Iberall is also the playwright of We Did It For You! Women’s Journey Through History – a musical about how women got their rights in America, told by the women who were there. She was inducted into the International Educators Hall of Fame for creative teaching methods. In her work, she bridges between heart and mind and teaches through performance, the written word, poetry, sermons, workshops, and storytelling. www.theaiberall.com.

Earth Etudes for Elul 13 - Next Time You Are Thirsty

by Rayna Carner

Plastic bottles between you and me

Drinken once and then thrown into the sea

Not directly- first they’re thrown in the trash

They travel to the landfill among other ash

Precipitation ensues, carrying empty bottles away

They float into oceans, breaking into micro-pieces for eternal stay

Marine life mistakes bright plastic for treat

Pollution-ridden homes, they decide to eat

Now, those plastic bottles that our oceans are so rich in

Will move from small fish to medium to seafood in our kitchen

So that water or soda or caffeinated tea? 

That you thought you got rid of but really threw in the sea?

Is sitting there on your very plate

Do you want this to be your grandchildren’s fate?

Please, reuse and recycle that annoying bottle!

Whoever said single-use must be the road to follow?

Because no one wants micro-plastic floating in their sea

Please remember next time you’re thirsty

Rayna Carner is a current freshman at Tulane University planning to major in Environmental Studies. She is from Natick, Massachusetts, and was involved throughout high school in the teen community at Temple Beth Elohim in Wellesley. This summer, Rayna interned at JCAN, creating two infographic guides about how to have a sustainable b’nei mitzvah project and party. 

Earth Etude for Elul 12 - Our Rabbis Teach

by Judith Black

Our rabbis teach us that:

What we feel is our business

What we say can help or hurt

But it is what we do that marks our lives on this earth.

Let us live lightly on this mother planet

Let us treat all living beings with dignity

Let us create nations that honor all their citizens' needs.

Judith Black is an internationally know storyteller and a climate activist. www.storiesalive.com

Earth Etude for Elul 11 - Planting Hope

 by Rabbi Judy Kummer

Hope is planting a tree, knowing that we will be feeding the worms under the tree’s ground before the tree yields fruit....

Hope sees the rays of light in the depth of the dark night.

Hope is an active act of faith, refusing to surrender. 

—Omid Safi

Early in the lockdown — that odd, isolating and scary time filled with unknowns and fears about survival, filled with daily tallies of diagnoses and deaths, filled with terrifying questions about one’s own survival and the survival of everyone one holds dear — I found myself making lists. Now, making lists is a fairly consistent thing I do, and it has helped carry me through some challenging times in my life. If only I can keep on top of the myriad thoughts and tasks running through my mind, says this trope, I can keep a semblance of order and can see my way forward, out of wherever I am. 

Usually my lists are composed of the many, many tasks I have to do — items for work, calls I need to make, errands to take care of, groups to plan for, things to set up or to buy or to get rid of. 

But during the pandemic, my lists were different. Oh, I still had my seemingly-endless lists of things I had to get done, both for work and in my personal life, but during the many weeks of the lockdown I found myself engaged in an entirely parallel effort, an effort that came out of a deep place in my soul. 

Now, my list-making had changed. Now I was noting consciously what was helping me get through that strange and scary time: 

—Tending to gossamer-thin video connections with my loved ones; 

—Furry, warm moments of engaging with my pets; 

—the luck of having purposeful work, and the connections that came along with it; 

—Daily exercise to feel the life-affirming pulsing knocking in my throat;

—the pleasure of favorite books and TV shows and movies, and the spill of laughter from Covid-silliness circulating on the internet;

—Making art, on a daily basis, and savoring beautiful images and soulful poetry;

and in some ways most important in sustaining my soul: planting seeds and watching them grow. 

For years now, I have had a practice of saving the Indian corn from my Sukkot decorations and planting it indoors during Passover, with the hope of transplanting it into my garden in warmer weather to grow my own s’chach for the following Sukkot. I also have a practice of purchasing vegetable and flower seeds and starting them indoors in the spring— even knowing that their survival is not guaranteed.

This year, I was intent on seeing those seedlings thrive and make it successfully into my garden. I made late-night trips to Home Depot and Lowes, when I thought there would be less chance of Covid exposure, and I purchased grow lights and set up a much more careful planting system than in previous years— and the result was a veritable indoor Eden. 

I watched with daily anticipation as the seeds I had planted sprouted and pushed their little noses up through the earth and then grew at a pace that was almost visible to the naked eye. Each day I marveled that my little seedlings had seemingly grown another inch or two since the day before, and they gave me the gift of having something to tend to, closely, lovingly, in that odd time of isolation. Daily, that corner of my dining room grew more lush and green, stems lengthening and vines spilling over to launch themselves into friendly thin air. From the simple actions of basking in warm light and soaking up moisture, my little plants were heading toward being planted in the garden. 

It seems that with filling planting cells with soil and tucking seeds into them and then placing them under grow lights, I was doing more for myself than just growing shoots to fill my vegetable garden. I was, in reality, planting hope. I was planting a vision of a time and a place that would remind me of summers past and would bring me back to a sense of greater normalcy. And in planting those seeds, I was making a declaration: I believe in the power of life and nature and generativity. I was choosing to believe in a future lush with promise, with optimism, with growth, with hope. 

I am glad to be able to report that most of those seedlings made it successfully into my garden and have been rewarding my care with abundant fresh food to nourish the body and also with beauty to nourish the soul.

It seems that while I was the one planting and tending and watering those seedlings, they were providing me with so much more. While I staked their sprawling limbs, they supported me in my faith that good things might lie ahead. 

May we all be blessed with hope for a good future awaiting us. 

Rabbi Judy Kummer is a board-certified chaplain working as Program Leader for the Community Chaplaincy Initiative at Hebrew SeniorLife. She is a contemporary liturgist, composer, hiker, artist and organic gardener. She gardens outside of Boston, MA. 

Earth Etude for Elul 10 - The Dream

 By Nyanna Susan Tobin

The past few years, I have been inspired by R. Katy to write my Elul reflections. This year I find that I am looking backward rather than into my future. As I age, memories seem more in focus than the daily details. I remember as a young woman, I wanted to be a forest ranger. I wanted to care for and protect trees with a passion. My parents and teachers advised me that girls could not be forest rangers. An older relative named Bud told me that Jews could not be forest rangers. My struggles with chemistry led me to believe that I was not smart enough to learn the science of trees. Case closed for fifty years.

I had no Idea that in 2020, I would be working with Joan Maluf and her Old growth Forest Network, looking upward at majestic trunks, exploring for old trees.

The last Friday of May, 2020 was magical. I was walking in an old growth Hemlock forest. Ziggy Dog and two forest folk, one a Botanist, the other a climber/naturalist were my adventure companions. In March I had been recruted by the OGFN, Old Growth Forest Network, to find trees in Eastern Massachusetts that could be documented and possibly protected for family recreation.

For this first foray into the forest, we walked on an even, winding path from 10 am til 2 pm. The cool misty air was a relief from the early heat wave and drought. As Ziggy checked out every root and pine needle, his three two-legged friends gazed skyward. We were gifted with clear views of some of the tallest Hemlocks in Eastern Massachusetts. Then we reached a clearing that showered us with soft, glowing sunlight. As I comprehended the far off tall trunks, they looked like a fleet of sailing ship masts. An old ballad came to mind. In my joy, I sang way out to the fleet:

The men in the forest, they once asked of me.

How many strawberries grow in the blue sea? 

And I asked back of them with a tear in my eye. 

How many dark ships in the forest?

I just had to sing out, and again, as the woods cradled my voice. Like an old lullaby, I remembered my fifty-year-old dream. This year at Elul, I wonder how long must I wait to step into another.

Nyanna Susan Tobin is an Organic Storyteller andTree Advocate. She marches and works for Justice and a sustainable future from her home in Acton, MA.

Earth Etude for Elul 9 - Fear God, Love the Earth

by Andy Oram

The terrifying spread of COVID-19 has also led to a spike in gun sales in the United States, causing an estimated increase of anywhere from 70 percent to 501 percent in different areas. Less notice has been given to bicycle sales, but demand here has also accelerated somewhere between 121 and 700 percent.

A bicycle is an optimistic approach to the pandemic. Perhaps buyers recognize that public transportation is risky and either don't own a car or don't want to burden the streets with one. They may have more leisure time for touring, or may be trying to replace a physical work-out after the closure of their gym. Bicycles show a respect for the Earth, the people in it, and the physical health of the rider.

Gun purchases represent an adaptation as negative as bicycles are positive. I am not opposed to gun purchases in principle: guns can be useful and sometimes necessary. But as a reaction to the pandemic, they are not only irrational but deleterious.

Americans are buying guns out of fear. They tell news sites that they anticipate the collapse of basic civilizational functions such as food supplies. Obviously, they also fear what their neighbors would do in the face of that collapse.

But fear paralyzes. Lurking behind guns, people lose their appreciation for the acts they could take to sustain the structures and systems that in turn sustain them. These structures and systems include the extensive roots of plants, the rich swells of the sea, the swarms of creatures completing the cycle, and the workers who prepare food for consumption. Gun owners may be capable of love for the Earth, but their fear can crowd out this consciousness, leaving only consciousness of the risks they face when life-giving systems fail.

The Jewish tradition has a response to this fear. Kabbalah centers this response on the injunction found throughout Jewish texts to fear God. If we focus all our fear on God, we overcome the everyday fears of hunger, pain, and violence. After all, what is really worth fearing? Shouldn’t we worry more about the potential disappearance of life on Earth than any of our everyday fears?

In short, fear of God frees us from the fears that drive us to irrational and deleterious behavior. Embrace the fear of God and you don't need a gun to fight a virus. With fear of God, you may even learn to love the Earth.

Andy Oram is a writer and editor in the computer field. His editorial projects have ranged from a legal guide covering intellectual property to a graphic novel about teenage hackers. Print publications where his writings have appeared include The Economist, the Journal of Information Technology & Politics, and Vanguardia Dossier. He has lived in the Boston, Massachusetts area for more than 30 years. His poems have been published in Ají, Arlington Literary Journal, DASH, Genre: Urban Arts, Offcourse, Panoply, Soul-Lit, and Speckled Trout Review.

Earth Etude for Elul 8: Counting the Months: A Reflection on Rosh Hodesh Elul

by Emily Nadel

The skies these nights are dark & bright 

the moon collecting herself

the stars are 

Expansive. 

Elul. [Elul.]

Elul: the month of return. 

Elul: when the goldenrod covers the fields and tall, thin purple flowers line 

                the roads and highways. A couple maples have shown some color — 

                not many, and among all the green the color is calling to those 

                who are listening. 

Elul: A call to see the turning trees. To feel the cooling air, the shorter 

                days. 

Elul, and the New Year is just around the corner, 

and the call of the shofar calls me home

leads me home

builds a home.

We began this time of isolation during the celebration of planting. 

Nissan:     the beginning of longer days and warmer air, 

Pesach:     a new year grounded in home, a holiday for the home, celebrated 

                    in a home I had not left for weeks before, and would not leave 

                    for months after.  In these weeks of isolation, 

Counting the Omer brought meaning to monotonous days, guided me to look 

                    around - to watch the seasons, watch myself, watch our 

                    world change… culminating in 

Shavuout:    a day of revelation. This day of revelation, days after the murder 

                    of George Floyd. This Shvuous, I understood our task to be 

                    hearing the call for justice, and knowing that the call the need - 

                    for justice comes from a place of hurt, hurt with history. 

So the summer months: Sivan, Tammuz, & Av are concerned with history. with hurt. with holding loss & holding love. 

Adina Allen writes [in the Adamah Guide to Jewish Time], “Our task during this month of Elul then is to cultivate light even in the places that feel dark. In so doing we allow for something new to burst forth, a light whose brilliance we have not yet known.” 

This Elul, most places feel dark. 

Interconnected darkness; darkness that feels impenetrable and pervasive. 

Still, we cultivate light. 

We cultivate light - we must - with resiliency, 

       with tenderness, 

       with practices learned and ones developed new for 

                               these times. 

[Elul. Elul. Elul.]

This Elul, I am grateful for my friends the goldenrod and the shofar - 

        grateful for all that is grounding and familiar 

grateful for the call to return, 

    to see ourselves as beloved,

            and to cultivate light amidst all this darkness. 

Emily Nadel is fascinated by human impact and the ways human history is visible in our landscapes and cities. Since graduating from Macalester College with a focus in Jewish history, Emily has canvassed for Planned Parenthood, led the 9th grade unit at Ramah in the Rockies, studied at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem, and worked as a Teva Educator. You can find Emily exploring a new habitat, reading about eco-Judaism, and seeing what's new in her garden!