“Our ancestors prayed for this moment,” said a leader at the awe-inspiring Chavaya Festival in Duvall, Washington. How can I describe, in the limited format of letters and words, what I experienced at this music festival two weeks ago?

Dozens of musicians, too numerous to name (see the full lineup here), and leaders of whole-being-inspired prayer lifted our souls in song, dance, and prayer. In community. In nature. By the river. Surrounded by trees, sky, and stars.

As we journey forward from the waning quarter moon of Av in the final days of this potent month on the Hebrew calendar, I have been supremely blessed to be immersed in the vast views of moonlit oceans and skyscapes on both east and west coasts, and many rides through the wide rolling golden California hills. 

We begin the Hebrew month of Tammuz on Monday night, June 15. According to our mystical tradition, the area of healing associated with Tammuz is sight and seeing. This week, we read in the Torah portion Sh'lach about twelve men (anashim / אֲנָשִׁים) who are sent to "see" (Yaturu / יָתֻ֙רוּ֙) the land of Canaan.

As we approach Passover, I want to share a few gems from our EJL community classes, where we have been embodying phrases from the Exodus story as inspiration for our inner journey from constriction to expansion. 
 

I’m inspired and grateful to have spent many days this month dancing with my feet on the earth.  I spent five days dancing here in the Bay Area in an Open Floor Ground Floor Lab, where with almost 40 dancers we danced with ten core movement resources and created lasting connections with one another.  And as those of you who attended recent classes with me at the IJS online Yoga studio know, I am obsessed with my anatomy class these days. And I’m particularly in awe of the feet. 

On Sunday evening we will enter the Hebrew month of Shvat. Known for the holiday of Tu’B’Shvat, in this month we honor and celebrate our connection to the earth and to trees. As we enter the new year I am slowly re-entering after taking a break from my electronic devices. A break from reading emails or thinking about my work; a break from reading the news or checking my phone for texts. I realize this is a privilege and I am grateful for the opportunity.

For thirty years, I have been moving, drawing and writing my way through grief.  Placing my attention upon my sensing body, capturing imagery with colors, and embodying these images in movement has been a healing balm and a source of comfort even as I am experiencing pain that feels unbearable.

When my heart feels broken, I know I must go to the mat, to the dance floor, to the woods, to the ocean - often with a drawing pad in hand - and create time and space for the creative process to carry me through.

Since the last time I wrote to you, I have lost a dear family member and have been in mourning. I have been a bit frozen in time as my whole family has been held by the beautiful mourning rituals and practices in our tradition, and the attention and care of dear friends, extended family members, and our communities.

Today we enter the sixth day of Sukkot, a week-long festival where we are instructed to dwell in temporary huts. Sukkot has many names, including ‘Time of our Joy’, Zman Simchateinu/ זְמַן שִׂמְחָתֵנוּ. In these days between the beginning and end of the holiday, we greet one another with the words ‘Moadim L’Simcha'/מועדים לשמחה.

I’m struggling with the idea of this time as a season of joy, because of what is happening in the world and also in my life.  These days of Sukkot have brought me to unexpected turns, activities and places, including caring for a beloved family member who has been critically ill.  In this season I also observe the yahrzeit of my beloved mother, who left this world during Sukkot, and of one of my beloved pets, who left us just after this holiday last year. 

Sunday night we embodied the essence of 'return' in our Elul Dance circle. We focused upon our structures and our soft bodies as we released inward (p'nimiyut/פְּנִימִיוּת) to our embodied knowing at the center of our beings.  We danced as the sun set and watched the full moon of Elul rise over the trees, accompanied by the changing light of the sky, the arriving stars, and the sounds of the rushing creek below.

We are in the time on the Hebrew Calendar between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av.  On the 17th of Tammuz, the walls of the temple in Jersualem were breached, and on the 9th of Av both the first and second the temples were destroyed.  These weeks on the calendar are a time of designated mourning.  As we approached the 17th of Tammuz earlier this month, I took myself to nature and breached the temple walls of my grief so that I could enter the holy of holies - my heart.

Last month I had the great privilege and blessing to travel to co-create sacred community as we studied, prayed, practiced, danced, laughed, cried and deepened our connections to one another, to nature, and to the Divine Presence at our annual Torah Yoga Retreat.  
 

The chance to be together on retreat, held by nature and the rhythm of the Hebrew calendar, was exquisitely delicious.  Swimming in the warm lake at Isabella Freedman and a warm Atlantic ocean afterwards (very different from the Pacific) infused my being with joy and appreciation for the amazing natural world that continues to persevere, even alongside the horrific actions that we humans continue to take.