Earth Etude for Elul 22 - The Wonder of Life

by Maggid David Arfa

If I had influence with the good fairy... I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life. --Rachel Carson, Women’s Home Companion Magazine 1956

Awareness of a mystery is shared by all..., yet, as we have seen they usually mistake what they sense as being apart from their own existence, as if there was only wonder in what they see, not in the very act of seeing, as if the mystery were merely an act of observation….The mystery is not apart from ourselves, not a far off thing like a rainbow in the sky, the mystery is…not a something apart, but a dimension of all existence.  --Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man, 1955

I heard a young activist disparage an activity that helped us get in touch with our sense of wonder.  He said the world is burning!  We must stop the burning.  He implied that ‘sense of wonder’ moments are a luxury; lovely, yet irrelevant.  He had no patience to remember and share wonder.  Sigh.  

I have been so enlivened by so many moments of awe and wonder.  Haven’t you?  Small, simple moments- a warm summer night canoeing on a calm lake surrounded by stars; sitting pondside among colorful dragonflies and swaying cattails, mesmerized by a Great Blue Heron on the hunt.  We all have dozens and hundreds of such moments that linger over the decades, don't we?   But I’ve been plagued by nagging doubt- is it Jewish?  I’m so inspired by Rachel Carson and the great American tradition of natural history writers and poets that write their wonder and remind me of the vastness of which I belong.  But is it Jewish?

A story from Elie Wiesel: Yaakov Yitzchak, the young Seer of Lublin, used to skip school.  It made his teacher mad. He followed him.  The teacher saw that the boy was going to the forest to daven mincha- to say his afternoon prayers.  The teacher’s heart softened, he showed himself and called out, “Yaakov Yitzchak - don’t you know God is everywhere the same?  We daven mincha at school.  Why come out here?”.  Young Yaakov Yitzchak replies, “Yes teacher, I know God is everywhere the same- but I’m not!”

Elie Wiesel tells this story in Four Hasidic Masters and their Struggle with Melancholy.  I love this story also for what comes next:  As I remember it, Yaakov Yitzchak became so distressed by the senseless violence and suffering found in our world, that he stopped looking and used his sight only for study.  For seven years he stopped looking at the world.  I feel the news of the day can still inspire this severe impulse.  

Elie Wiesel doesn’t say it, but I can imagine his time in the forest, his experiences of awe and wonder, helped him to open his eyes to the world once again.  When feeling overwhelmed by the multitude of senseless rips, tears and suffering; filled with world weary weeping, anger and disgust; our experiences of wonder can remind us that all is not despairing.  The world needs help, yes, lots of help- and our reset can happen within awe and wonder.  As Wendell Berry reminds us, “When despair for the world grows... we can lie down where the Wood Drake rests... and come into the peace of wild things…”  

It’s clear to me this is all deeply human, but is it deeply Jewish too?  After all, one story is just a thread and ‘a thread does not make the cloth’.   My doubts fell away and I realized, yes, this IS deeply Jewish when I found the immigrant theologian, Abraham Joshua Heschel.  He was rescued from the clutches of the Shoah, the holocaust, and in response, he wrote books filled with chapter after chapter exploring wonder as theological grounding! I couldn’t take my eyes off the page.  Listen to this:

Endless wonder unlocks an innate sense of indebtedness.  Within our awe there is no place for our self assertion.  Within our awe we only know that all we own, we owe.  The world consists not of things, but of tasks.  Wonder is the state of our being asked.  The ineffable is a question addressed to us.

Amazingly to me, he was writing just a few years after the horrors of the Shoah where many of his family and millions of others were murdered.   He wrote boldly of wonder as a fundamental human experience; whose cultivation is so important we risk losing our humanity and civilization itself if we do not activate our ‘will to wonder’ and respond in fullness.  Wonder as tikkun, as antidote and remedy to the Shoah itself!  It doesn’t get more authentic than this.*  
This primal wonder beckons us.  In the words of AJ Heschel:

Our sense of wonder, the sublime mystery of living becomes the doorway, the gate of our faith; a foundation stone that allows for our realignment to wholeness, engulfing even our own self assertion. 

Yes, the world is burning AND the world is a castle of light.  When despair for our world grows, and we become overwhelmed with the news of the day, let us remember that awe and wonder are still here- calling us back into relationship, asking us: how will you respond to this new moment, this new day that is here.

* I heard a teaching from Rabbi Sheila P. Weinberg, who heard from Rabbi Art Green that indeed nothing is more Jewish than the question, “Am I Jewish enough”.  Even the most ultra, uber traditional Rabbi you can think of has an aunt, wagging a finger, saying, “you can do better!”.  Thankfully, the depth of spiritual encounter that came to America from Europe reminds us that doubt is a healthy part of our journey.  

Click here to read Rachel Carson’s entire article for Women’s Home Companion.  A true beacon in the night. https://training.fws.gov/history/Documents/carsonwonder.pdf

David Arfa, Maggid (Mah-geed/Storyteller) is dedicated to Judaism's storytelling heritage and ancient environmental wisdom.  He identifies as a 'Sense of Wonder' Jew and leads Shabbat-inspired contemplative strolls at his local High Ledges Audubon Wildlife Sanctuary. David has also produced two CD's, 'the Birth of Love: Tales for the Days of Awe' and the Parents Choice award winner, 'The Life and Times of Herschel of Ostropol: The Greatest Prankster Who Ever Lived'.  His live performances include the full length storytelling performance, 'The Jar of Tears: A Memorial for the Warsaw Ghetto Rebbe'.  The rest of the time, David is Director of Education at Congregation Beth Israel in North Adams, volunteers with Franklin County Hospice and has completed two CPE units totalling 800 hours of clinical pastoral education.  CPE is a nondenominational, nationally accredited clinical training program for spiritual care providers. His programs and performances can be found at www.maggiddavid.net.

Earth Etude for Elul 21 - Eco-Kaddish Blessing

By Judith Felsen, Ph.D.

Master of the Universe, Lord of All Worlds

May I know You

when I see a tree

feel the wind

gaze at stars

touch the ground

smile at flowers

May I see You

in all cycles of life

through and around me

May I sense You

with every breath

footstep, touch, thought and feeling

knowing You are near

and we are always One.

This Elul

may I join with You

becoming One

in nature’s presence

never to leave.

 © Judith Felsen, Ph.D.

Judith Felsen holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology, certificates in hypnotherapy, NLP, Eriksonian Hypnosis, and Sacred Plant Medicine. She is a poetess, consultant, creator of collaborative integrative programs involving  nature, Judaism and the arts,  daily student of Torah, sacred texts and various teachers particularly the Baal Shem Tov and Chassidus, sacred circle dancer and an avid kitchen worker. She enjoys sharing studies, all of the outdoors, the garden, harvesting, prepping ,walking, hiking, running, meditating and conversing with the earth. She serves on the board of the Bethlehem Hebrew Congregation, Neskaya Center for Movement Arts, and the Mount Washington Valley Chavurah.  She lives in the White Mountains with her husband, two large dogs and thenative community of the surrounding forest.

Earth Etude for Elul 20 - In the Hands of the Billionaires

by Mirele B. Goldsmith, Ph.D.

Recently I had the opportunity to hear a presentation about the UN Sustainable Development Goals by Jeffrey Sachs, the world’s best-known economist. Sachs emphasized that poverty and climate change are interrelated. He focused on the financial cost of a “just transition” to a world of decent livelihoods and renewable energy for all. Sachs explained that the cost of this transition could easily be financed if the world’s 2,043 billionaires contributed a mere 3% of their annual income. 

I find this analysis to be very encouraging. The problem is simple. Instead of changing the behavior of the 7.5 billion people on earth or even the policies of hundreds of governments, the transformation we seek can be accomplished by a handful of people. These individuals can easily afford the cost. All that is required is that they refrain from using their power for wrongdoing and instead choose to take righteous action. All that is required is that we persuade a few of our fellow human beings to follow the time-tested formula of tefilla, teshuva, and tzedakah (reflection, repentance, and action for justice.)

During this month of Elul I am reflecting on how Sachs’ analysis will influence my activism in the year ahead. This month of preparation for the Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe) is a time to focus on relationships between people. What can I do to influence those with immense power that can be used for good or evil?  How will I relate to the corporate executives, politicians, and billionaires with the power to save or destroy our world? And, as I seek to change their behavior, how can I be guided by my understanding of tochecha (rebuke,) teshuva (repentance,) and chesed (compassion)?

Dr. Mirele B. Goldsmith is an environmental psychologist, educator, and activist. Mirele created the Tikkun Mayim, a ceremony of repair for our relationship with water, and founded Jews Against Hydrofracking. She directed the Jewish Greening Fellowship, a network of 55 organizations committed to sustainability.  She attended the UN Summit on Climate Change in Copenhagen and was a leader in the Jewish mobilization for the People’s Climate March in New York City. Mirele’s writings on Judaism and sustainability have been published in the Jerusalem Report, Jewish Week, Forward, Shma, and Huffington Post.

Earth Etude for Elul 19 - Keeping Agreements as a Spiritual Practice

by Rabbi David Jaffe

I am a people pleaser. On the surface that may sound just fine. I get along well with people, care about people and want to give them what they want. But the motivations for my people pleasing reveal its dark underside. I don’t like conflict, so I will do whatever is necessary to make sure people like me. For example, I will say yes to things I know I will never do, sacrificing my integrity to avoid the momentary discomfort and hard feelings of saying no. 

I am not sharing this publicaly to self-flagellate. Rather, my own condition is instructive for many people because these patterns of behavior are not of my own invention and are not a “personal problem.” On the contrary, I have been trained well by the dominant Protestant middle-class culture of the United States to be a good cog in the capitalist machine. This training teaches us to work hard, keep your head down, conform, avoid conflict, get people to like you and you will achieve a level of comfort that is the goal of life. Then, do whatever possible not to lose this comfort. This means avoiding hard things with other people that might create conflict.

Caitlin Breedlove, a community organizer with the Auburn Seminary, names the broader implications of conflict avoidance in Elizabeth Aeschlimann’s powerful unpublished master’s thesis, Getting Mixed Up With Each Other (May, 2017, Harvard Divinity School). Breedlove, who was raised working class, recounts numerous experiences with middle-class college students and organizers who said yes to certain agreements and then broke their word in the course of work together. The difficult changes community organizing seeks to make take relationships people can count on. Without knowing that someone really has your back, it is hard to fight for real change. Breedlove tells Aeschlimann that people involved in campaigns, “… really wanted spiritual accompaniment on the road… I think when you’re really accompanying them, you have a spiritual covenant with them. You’ve given them your word, and you’ve asked something in return.” This idea of covenant is key for Breedlove.  Covenanting with someone means that you are there for them in a real and continuous way and will not break your agreements, even if it makes you deeply uncomfortable. 

Am I willing to give up the momentary comfort of saying yes to a request and instead have the integrity to make agreements I will keep? Am I willing to always keep my word? A lot is at stake in the white middle class in our country confronting these questions. On an environmental level we have an implicit agreement with future generations to steward the earth and leave it in better shape than how we found it. Will we follow through with that agreement? Will we keep our word to our children or sacrifice our integrity for short term economic comfort. In the language of Middot – Jewish soul traits – the commitment and integrity Breedlove advocates is called Emunah – trustworthiness and reliability. A traditional blessing given to couples upon marriage is, “May you build a Bayit Ne’eman B’Yisrael – a trustworthy and reliable home.”  

This Elul I am asking myself to sacrifice comfort and risk creating conflict with people by only saying yes to things I can actually do. Taking on a commitment, no matter how small, means actually following through and doing it. If everyone with these same people pleasing patterns can commit to keeping our word, we can make this world a Bayit Ne’eman, a reliable, trustworthy home, where we responsibly steward this miraculous earth for the generations to come.

Rabbi David Jaffe is the author of Changing the World from the Inside Out: A Jewish Approach to Personal and Social Change, winner of the 2016 National Jewish Book Award for Contemporary Jewish Life. He is the Founder and Principal of Kirva Consulting, which helps individuals and organizations access spiritual wisdom for creating healthy, sustainable relationships and communities. He blogs at rabbidavidjaffe.com. 

Earth Etude for Elul 18 - Searching for the Tree of Heaven

by Rachel Aronson

Despite its nickname, “the tree of heaven,” the ailanthus is not universally beloved. It is not planted in garden beds, on streets, or in parks. There are 22 types of permitted street trees in New York City, where I live, and the Tree of Heaven is not one of them.

The Tree of Heaven is most famous for being the titular Tree that grows in Brooklyn:

“There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps… It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it.” (Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn)

As a fan of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and an amateur urban naturalist, I resolved to find the tree when I moved to Brooklyn. My search was, at first, entirely unsuccessful. The majestic trees lining brownstone streets were honey locust, oak, but never ailanthus. Bike rides down tree- lined corridors found London planes and tulip trees, but never ailanthus.

A bit of Googling shed some light on my problem; the ailanthus is considered a weed tree. Quickly growing, with pods that produce millions of seeds, it’s the tree equivalent of a dandelion.

So I started looking for the ailanthus in places where trees aren’t planted. And found them: in the middle of the subway tracks, growing out of abandoned lots, on uncultivated roadsides. Where no money had entered to beautify or to plant, there was the ailanthus.

A friend of mine recently relayed a Midrash about Moshe and the burning bush. To find the leader of the Jewish people, G-d set up a fire in a bush that was not consumed. Shepherds came and went, their minds on other things, and overlooked it. Moshe was the first to see the bush for what it was - a miracle. And for this observation and appreciation, he was chosen as a great leader.

If left unchecked, the ailanus has been known to wreck havock. It’s an invasive species; its roots overtake sewer systems, its branches intercept telephone lines. I am not advocating for an end to thoughtful land management practices. Simply an appreciation of what is around us, a reminder to notice. To notice not just the beauty that’s obvious before us, but to pause and see the beauty that we’ve been overlooking - that which might be considered a weed.

What will you notice today?

Rachel Aronson is the Sustainability and Community Engagement Associate at Hazon. You can reach her at rachel.aronson@hazon.org.

Earth Etude for Elul 17 - Spiritual Charity and the Tale of Two Seas

 by Rabbi Ziona Zelazo

This post emerged during a summer stay in Israel. I heard the story from my friend Dalia, about her nephew, who got killed in a terrorist attack. In his death he donated his organs to save lives. And so he already enabled a man to regain his vision with the donated retina. I was thinking how amazing it is to be able to give to others. But in particular, I was thinking that there is no one way to give to others. People can choose to be givers in many shapes and forms.

And here is another Israeli hint for the idea of giving: 

There are two lakes in Israel. One is the Dead Sea, the other is the Sea of Galilee. Both are not really seas, both receive their waters from the Jordan river. And yet, they are very, very different. The Dead Sea in the south is very high in salt. You can float and read a book at the same time! Thus, there is no life at all; no vegetation and no marine life. Hence the name: Dead Sea. The Sea of Galilee is north of the Dead Sea. It is surrounded by the rich and colorful vegetation. It is the home to over twenty different types of fishes. 

Dead Sea

Sea of Galilee

Same source of the Jordan river’s water, and yet one sea is full of life, the other is dead. How come? The Jordan river flows into the Sea of Galilee and then flows out so it keeps the sea healthy and vibrant, allowing marine life to exist. But the Dead Sea is below the mean sea level, and has no outlet for its water. The water flows in from the Jordan river, but does not flow out. Thus, unfit for any marine life.

There are the Givers and the Takers. And in Judaism, giving charity is an obligation. In the Bavli Talmud we fine dozens of texts about this obligation. They say that charity, or in Hebrew - Tzedakah, is the most important commandment to fulfill. For example, we read in Baba Batra 10b the following: 

R. Yehudah says: Ten strong things have been created in the world. The rock is hard, but the iron cleaves it. The iron is hard, but the fire softens it. The fire is hard, but the water quenches it. The water is strong, but the clouds bear it. The clouds are strong, but the wind scatters them. The wind is strong, but the body bears it. The body is strong, but fear crushes it. Fear is strong, but wine banishes it. Wine is strong, but sleep works it off. Death is stronger than all, but charity saves from death, as it is written, Righteousness [tzedakah] delivers from death (Proverbs 10:2; 11:4).

If you are like me, who was taught that “Tzaddaka” is giving money to the poor or to other worthy causes, we are missing the point. Most often we think that giving relates to how much money one gives away. That if we donate to charity with a check, we are Givers. And if we do not have the means of money, we are out of the box of Giving. However, being generous is far more than a money issue. It is a code of behavior that requires generosity from the heart, the sharing of personal time, energy, talent, wisdom, love, compassion and many other resources. The act of charity also includes visiting the sick, burying the dead, and dealing justly with others.

The classic ethical work of “Orchot Tzadikim” – [Ways of the Righteous], written in Germany in the 15th century, liberates us from this conditional relationship between charity and money. Three categories of giving with generosity are listed: giving of one's wealth, giving of oneself physically by being present to others in need, and giving of one's wisdom. The last two are types of giving that money cannot buy.

The giving from our spirit of compassion and love, is the emotional quality of giving which is commonly referred to as Gemilut hasadim- deeds of loving-kindness. Investing from your own energy builds relationship, which does not depends on giving money to the poor. In Sukka 49b we read:

R. Elazar further stated: Acts of loving-kindness (Gemilut hasadim) are greater than charity (Tzedakah), for it is said, ‘Sow to yourselves according to your charity (Tzedakah), but reap according to your hesed (kindness)’ (Hosea 10:12); when one sows, it is doubtful whether he will eat [the harvest] or not, but when one reaps, he will certainly eat. 

Our rabbis taught: In three respects Gemilut hasadim is superior to charity: charity can be done only with one’s money, but Gemilut hasadim can be done with one’s person and one’s money. Charity can be given only to the poor, but Gemilut hasadim both to the rich and the poor. Charity can be given to the living only,Gemilut hasadim can be done both to the living and to the dead.

Have you considered visiting the sick as giving? Or, supporting someone by just listening to them without trying to fix them? Could we imagine that a smile, a recognition of someone with words could also be acts of giving? Bava Batra 9b affirms that our presence could lift one’s spirits at times of despair and sustains the recipient at least as much as any donation;

"Someone who gives a coin to the poor will be blessed with six blessings, whereas the one who addresses him with words of comfort will be blessed with eleven blessings (even if he does not give him a donation)."

Ketubos 111b also mentions that even a smile alone could be as important as a physical donation: 

The congregation of Israel says to the Almighty: 'Master of the Universe, wink to me with Your eyes for that exhilarates me more than wine and smile at me with Your teeth for that is sweeter to me than milk." The Talmud continues and says this is proof to what Rabbi Yochanan said, "Better is the one who shows the white of his teeth (in a smile) to his friend, than the one who gives him milk to drink.

I think that each one of us were, one time or another, the Giver of many versions, like the Sea of Galilee, where it enriched our lives with the sense of a moral fulfillment. And also being the Taker, where it left us spiritually empty. How do you see yourself today? Are you the Sea of Galilee or the Dead Sea?

Let’s not be like the Dead Sea. May we recall the joy we get when giving and what healing it can provide because the act giving from the heart makes a difference in people’s life.

Rabbi Ziona Zelazo was ordained at The Academy for Jewish Religion (AJR) in New York, a pluralistic seminary that trains rabbis and cantors. She is the daughter of Holocaust survivors, and was born and raised in Haifa, Israel. She served in The Israeli Defense Force and studied Biblical archaeology and ancient languages in Tel Aviv University. Rabbi Ziona completed her academic education in Cultural Anthropology at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and taught as an adjunct professor at Montclair State University, New Jersey. Rabbi Ziona officiates in life cycle rituals and provides Jewish education to adults. As a hospital chaplain, she ministeres interfaith pastoral care​ ​to all age groups. Rabbi Ziona believes in developing positive relationships between people of all faiths and has served on the bio-ethic committees of Valley Hospital and St. Joseph’s-Wayne Hospital for the last 20 years. She is a strong advocate for the Women of the Wall in Israel. Rabbi Ziona is married to Ron Zelazo, and they are proud parents of 3 adult children and 3 grandchildren.

Earth Etude for Elul 16 - Ram in the Bushes

by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen

And it came to pass after these things, that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham;” and he said, “Hineni, here I am.” And he said, “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell you.” (Gen. 22:1-2)

We are being tested. 
But not by G!d. 
We are being tested by the world in which we live. 

We are being tested by the actions of humans past and present. 
We are being tested by the changing climate.
We are being tested by the racism built into our institutions, our systems, and our lives.
We are being tested by rising sea levels.
We are being tested by white supremacists.
We are being tested by mass migrations.
We are being tested by divisiveness in our communities and our countries.
We are being tested by the scarcity of resources.
We are being tested by words of hate.
We are being tested by polluted air.
We are being tested by our fears and the fears of others.
We are being tested by a scarcity of clean water.
We are being tested by deep economic divisions.
We are being tested by melting glaciers.
We are being tested by the enormity of the problems.

We are being tested. 

How will you I respond? 
How will you respond?
How will we respond? 

God gave Abraham a ram in the bushes to sacrifice in place of his son.
But God is not testing us.
God cannot put a ram in the bushes for us.
It is up to us to prevent the sacrifice of our children.
It is up to us to put the ram in the bushes.
It is up to us to see the rams already in the bushes.

It is up to us.

We can do it.

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 Boston-based Jewish Climate Action Network. She is a board certified chaplain and serves as an Eco-Chaplain and the Facilitator of One Earth Collaborative, a program of Open Spirit, and is a former hospital and hospice chaplain. She received her ordination from the Academy for Jewish Religion in Yonkers, NY in 2005 and lives in Wayland, MA.

Earth Etude for Elul 15 - Wasting Food

by Scott Lewis, Ph.D.

When you besiege a city for many days to wage war against it to capture it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an ax against them, for you may eat from them, but you shall not cut them down. (Deuteronomy 20:19)

The mitzvah of Bal Taschit, do not waste, helps frame Jewish environmental concerns. While most Jewish environmental activists recognize the importance of Bal Taschit for prohibiting wasting energy and polluting the earth, we might easily overlook the commandment’s important connections to Food Waste.

Our sages understood this link. The Rambam, for example, pointed out that the Biblical passage was not limited to wartime actions:

And not only trees, but whoever breaks vessels, tears clothing, wrecks that which is built up, stops fountains, or wastes food in a destructive manner, transgresses the commandment of Bal Taschit… (Maimonides, Sefer Ha-mitzvot, Positive Commandment #6)

About 30-40% of food that is produced is thrown away, a shocking figure in the face of worldwide suffering due to malnutrition and starvation. The scale of Food Waste also has global environmental implications. Clearly, we are squandering the energy that goes into the production and transportation of food that is later thrown away. But did you know that when Food Waste is buried in landfills, it creates significant quantities of greenhouse gases that exacerbate climate change? The author of the book Drawdown enumerates the top solutions for reducing greenhouse gas emissions, and lists the reduction of Food Waste as its third most important solution, stating, “Ranked with countries, food would be the third largest emitter of greenhouse gases globally, right behind the United States and China.”  (p. 42)   

Much of the Food Waste in the U.S. occurs after the food has been delivered to retailers. Stores often throw away any “ugly fruit,” thinking that a bruise may make it unacceptable to consumers, and they toss food items based on the “freshness” date, even though many foods remain edible long past those dates.

Surprisingly, the amount of food that we consumers throw away may be greater than waste at the retail level. Some of us forget to use what we’ve purchased, bury it in the freezer, or simply purchase too much to use in the first place and it spoils.

I find myself guilty of being part of this problem. So this year, my teshuvah will include reflecting on my food waste sins: the spaghetti sauce I left on the stove, the pickles languishing in the back of the fridge, and the beautiful Russian black bread that hardened into a brick before I could enjoy it. My teshuvah will also include a vow to do a better job of following the Bal Taschit mitzvah, especially as it applies to food.

Dr. Scott Lewis is a science and environmental educator and community instigator living in South Florida. His professional interests include project-based approach to science education, the interaction of culture and cognition, and electronic learning. Scott is involved in several community volunteer projects including exploring the impacts of Sea Level Rise and supporting efforts to grow environmentally responsible, fairly produced, delicious food.

Earth Etude for Elul 14 - Time to Rest

by Tali Anisfeld 

Night summoned day again this morning, and the dawn told me to rest. This surprised me. Isn’t it the setting sun – rather than its rising companion – that usually coaxes us into rest?  But then again, maybe she was hinting at something about rest that comes with motion (the reach and stretch of the day), rather than with stillness (the hushed retreat of night).

It is time to rest; it is time to be awoken in prayer and to laugh with the tickling grasses. To climb and jump and run and let the sweat of your body mix with the rain of the heavens. It is time to eat from the fruit of the bush, the tree, the vine. To kiss softly at night and softly in the morning and tell him you love him or say nothing at all. It is time to listen to music without singing along. To think not about the words or the notes, but the way it feels when an entire universe splashes over you and dives down down down. Chest. Belly. The soles of your feet. It is time to rest.

Look at that old tree. A tree that has stood, trembling but unwavering. Tell it your secrets. I’m tired. I want to dance and sing, but sometimes my legs weaken and my voice gets hoarse. How do you do it, old tree? Are you tired? Do you need to rest your weary legs and heavy head, too? Not even in the soft ache of a cold winter night?

I recently fell in love with the liminality of tidelands. Nowhere in the world does change make more sense. Ebb and flow – come and go, I need you, you need me -- the ocean’s mighty beckoning and gentle retreat. And a whole world of creatures. Clutching desperately yet calmly – not in fear, but in something related – to the earth moving beneath them. Needing water but not only water - and land but not only land.

Maybe when the trees quiver in the cold and rustle in the wind, they are resting. Maybe staying in one place – standing straight and still and stiff – is harder than bending over or craning backwards, stretching to dip and fold and roll and reach. Because to stretch demands breath and breath gives way to movement, and movement gives you strength.

Chant along with the beating rain. Gaze on the mystery of radishes growing in the yard. Shiver with the frog on the bank of the river who has lost his family. Weep for the flowers that wither too soon and rejoice with the morning songbirds. Let them do the same with you. Even let them do it for you, sometimes.

Tshuva is rest in motion.

To grow as a tree grows – to return to the earth as you stretch up up up. Shuv.

And don’t forget there are blueberries growing up in the mountains and the world is created each morning and so are we.

Tali Anisfeld grew up in Newton, MA, and attended JCDS, Boston's Jewish Community Day School and Gann Academy. She is now a rising sophomore at Princeton University where she plans to study Environmental Humanities: a growing field of environmental study that focuses on the artistic, literary, social, and cultural implications and manifestations of changing environmental conditions. She was a 2015 participant in the Bronfman Youth Fellowships in Israel. This summer, she has been working with the Jewish Climate Action Network and has been inspired by many members of the Jewish community who she has been partnering with in this important work.

Earth Etude for Elul 13 - Displaced Trash

by Nicci Meadow

Misplaced anger

causes me to

displace trash

from where I find it

to another place

where it ought

not to be;

Then,

picturing it clearly,

startles me,

helping me to see

what I too

have become,

acting out unintentionally

or carelessly.

Not very Jewish or Buddhist

of me.

It's time for a change.

Nicci Meadow is a mother, artist-photographer, "do-gooder" and seeker.  www.niccimeadow.com.