university, america, and Yom Ha'atzmaut
It's 3:15 in the morning, my posterior tibial tendan is sending shooting pains throughout my ankle and up my leg and I can't sleep. So I figure I may as well post something new, despite my oodles of stuff to read for class.
So today was Yom Ha'atzmaut. I went to the tekes of sorts at YU last night which was interesting. So much could be said in terms of analyzing the science behind organizing a Yom HaZikaron/Yom Ha'atzmaut "tekes" for American Jews in America. But I'm not really so interested in picking that apart right now. What I did find most interesting however was the chagigah that took place after. And I mean aside from the fact that probably for the first time I didn't even notice or pay attention to how high the mechitzah was until much later...which is probably also due to the fact that everyone was focused on just dancing that it didn't really matter.
What I found so interesting about the chagigah is that I think I enjoyed it more than the chagigot I attended during my two years in Israel. So I was talking to a friend about this who agreed. And I think that this reality is probably true for a lot of people, although many may not want to admit it, and it speaks volumes on our favorite topic: The Year in Israel. Now of course I could choose many things to critisize about the year during which you leave your personal life and world, your family and people who know you, and travel half way across the world, albeit to Israel, and entrust your life and soul to adult individuals who you meet for the first time and then proceed to rarely speak to ever again after its over. Aside from the unhealthiness of that sort of experience. Additionally, the focus on change and growth, which can be seen as a positive thing, creates this certain environment that permeates and seems to lead the chagigah like a conductor. The pressure to have a spiritual experience while dancing, or to be really "leibedig" and convince everyone else around you that that is what the real spiritual experience in fact is, is tangible. Even to the best of us I believe. It is extremely difficult to really enter your own inner world while sorrounded by fast moving people and loud music. Possible, but difficult. And in reality some of us probably tap in and out of that "place", depending on the nature of the song being played, and the moment, throughout the duration of the chagigah, and some of us maybe tap in once, and some of us not at all. And some people might think that this is all nonsense and the extreme focus on avodat HaShem puts one in the right mode to be genuine on the dance floor, which theoretically it should. But something tells me that is not the whole picture.
What is ironic, yet typical, is that it took a college Yom Ha'atzmaut chagigah for me to really feel pressure free. And I don't mean just from the pressure around me, but from my own internal pressure, to "get there", to that internal place where I am with G-d intensely and constantly. Assuming that you want to actually participate, just genuinely, the university focus on individuality and pluralism promotes this type of naturaleness in all areas of life and it somehow seeps onto the chagigah dance floor as well.
I don't beleive that I had a significantly more spiritual experience this year, whatever that even means. I think that it was a very natural experience, the sort that stems from an appreciation of the natural self. This type of appreciation is not one which is engendered in a yeshiva environment, a place which has the focus of self-improvement, of harnessing the natural self, and in some places of actually negating the natural self. And many may argue that it is not even engendered at YU, an Orthodox university. However, you must admit that it is much more so than at a regular yeshiva.
Additionally, it took an American environment, on American soil, to engender that experience as well. A country that stands for diversity and free from the tensions of a single-religion state. Yet...what is a Yom Ha'atzmaut chagigah outside of Israel? Despite the pressures of an envrionment like Israel, they are what make it unique, they are what give the day significance, they are what contribute to the very nature and essence of the celebration.
My experience this year was very enjoyable and part of that enjoyment was the fact that I wasn't trying to "get there", to that place where everyone thinks everyone else is getting to, even in the most litvish of atmospheres, of clinging to G-d through fervent dancing, again whatever that means. The university agenda and the American philosophy create an environment that is conducive to individuality and the genuine experience. It is because of that that I think I was able to have a smoother experience. Finally permitting myself to "just be" in terms of lifestyle in general because of university, the result was an experience that perhaps got farther than others, and perhaps didnt. I don't really know bc experiences are hard to compare like that, being in a different "place" after each one. I do know that it sure was just more pleasant. But for all the pleasantness, was it significant?
So today was Yom Ha'atzmaut. I went to the tekes of sorts at YU last night which was interesting. So much could be said in terms of analyzing the science behind organizing a Yom HaZikaron/Yom Ha'atzmaut "tekes" for American Jews in America. But I'm not really so interested in picking that apart right now. What I did find most interesting however was the chagigah that took place after. And I mean aside from the fact that probably for the first time I didn't even notice or pay attention to how high the mechitzah was until much later...which is probably also due to the fact that everyone was focused on just dancing that it didn't really matter.
What I found so interesting about the chagigah is that I think I enjoyed it more than the chagigot I attended during my two years in Israel. So I was talking to a friend about this who agreed. And I think that this reality is probably true for a lot of people, although many may not want to admit it, and it speaks volumes on our favorite topic: The Year in Israel. Now of course I could choose many things to critisize about the year during which you leave your personal life and world, your family and people who know you, and travel half way across the world, albeit to Israel, and entrust your life and soul to adult individuals who you meet for the first time and then proceed to rarely speak to ever again after its over. Aside from the unhealthiness of that sort of experience. Additionally, the focus on change and growth, which can be seen as a positive thing, creates this certain environment that permeates and seems to lead the chagigah like a conductor. The pressure to have a spiritual experience while dancing, or to be really "leibedig" and convince everyone else around you that that is what the real spiritual experience in fact is, is tangible. Even to the best of us I believe. It is extremely difficult to really enter your own inner world while sorrounded by fast moving people and loud music. Possible, but difficult. And in reality some of us probably tap in and out of that "place", depending on the nature of the song being played, and the moment, throughout the duration of the chagigah, and some of us maybe tap in once, and some of us not at all. And some people might think that this is all nonsense and the extreme focus on avodat HaShem puts one in the right mode to be genuine on the dance floor, which theoretically it should. But something tells me that is not the whole picture.
What is ironic, yet typical, is that it took a college Yom Ha'atzmaut chagigah for me to really feel pressure free. And I don't mean just from the pressure around me, but from my own internal pressure, to "get there", to that internal place where I am with G-d intensely and constantly. Assuming that you want to actually participate, just genuinely, the university focus on individuality and pluralism promotes this type of naturaleness in all areas of life and it somehow seeps onto the chagigah dance floor as well.
I don't beleive that I had a significantly more spiritual experience this year, whatever that even means. I think that it was a very natural experience, the sort that stems from an appreciation of the natural self. This type of appreciation is not one which is engendered in a yeshiva environment, a place which has the focus of self-improvement, of harnessing the natural self, and in some places of actually negating the natural self. And many may argue that it is not even engendered at YU, an Orthodox university. However, you must admit that it is much more so than at a regular yeshiva.
Additionally, it took an American environment, on American soil, to engender that experience as well. A country that stands for diversity and free from the tensions of a single-religion state. Yet...what is a Yom Ha'atzmaut chagigah outside of Israel? Despite the pressures of an envrionment like Israel, they are what make it unique, they are what give the day significance, they are what contribute to the very nature and essence of the celebration.
My experience this year was very enjoyable and part of that enjoyment was the fact that I wasn't trying to "get there", to that place where everyone thinks everyone else is getting to, even in the most litvish of atmospheres, of clinging to G-d through fervent dancing, again whatever that means. The university agenda and the American philosophy create an environment that is conducive to individuality and the genuine experience. It is because of that that I think I was able to have a smoother experience. Finally permitting myself to "just be" in terms of lifestyle in general because of university, the result was an experience that perhaps got farther than others, and perhaps didnt. I don't really know bc experiences are hard to compare like that, being in a different "place" after each one. I do know that it sure was just more pleasant. But for all the pleasantness, was it significant?
posted by shira at 3:19 AM
7 Comments:
Shira, I'm glad to hear that something in Yeshiva University is pleasant for you.
As someone who has always enjoyed dancing, I was surprised to find that at one point during my first year in Israel, I was completely not interested in dancing with the girls.
I remember considering this feeling, and discovering that my experience with dancing is such that it is a deep expression of unity. The fact that I didn't feel connected to anyone in the circle made me not want to be part of it.
I think there might be value to the connection. The circle unites everyone in it-- they share to music, and also the motions and steps in the dance. Perhaps it is like the Rav spoke of Talmud Torah, bringing together different generations, or the way language can bridge the gap between people who are separated by existential difference.
No-- but it wasn't worth it for me. I wasn't in the mood to dance with strangers in the hope of forming a connection.
Ellie-
I agree. There is value in the group connection. And oftentimes we let our weekness get the better of us and hide from association with a certain group. But I also agree that it takes humility and self-honesty to relinquish our inhibitions and be able to put ourselves out there as part of a group; to really let go of our front to be emotionally and spirtually naked in front of others, whom you hope will do the same but cannot gaurantee will. I agree that when you are with people who you feel are genuine and are "in that place", oftentimes you suddenly can get there as well. It is when you sense that lack of "genuin-ness" that we find it unrewarding. Oftentimes that leads us to give up and not try again and then we become spiritually tainted, we lose heart, and it becomes harder for us to attempt to experience it again...
yay for blogging!
as to your question - whether it was significant shows that you are still in the "mode"- the everything in life must be an experience that results in something...improvement, reflection, closeness to G-d. I think the point you were making is really important. You cant force it. sometimes you need to just be. dont ask that question.
I had an experience like that recently sitting in a random garden in the old city of akko. i was just looking up at the trees and at the scenery and everything was overwhelmingly beautiful and i felt like i should be having some deep religious experience. like i should pray. but instead i just was. it was nothing at all. and that was the most powerful thing. we are constantly looking for meaning in things. we forget that they mean things on their own.
It's been too long since I've written a comment on your blog (and too long since you've written a new post and waaaaaaaaaay too long since you've written a comment on my blog -- since you never have), so here I go. Uh... I can't think of anything witty to say. Oh well!
I have facebook now! WOOHOO! You need to make one so I can get more friends. Tell all your friends who have facebook to add me as a friend so I'll seem cool. lol.
Hi Shira,
Shani Mintz directed me to your blog and I'm happy she did. It really is so refreshing and wonderful to find an independent connection to Judaism that does not involve guilt or an awareness of what other people are doing (although I have felt that change most in coming to a secular environment from somewhere like Stern). I also think its the only way to be a sane person. And I don't think you need to hold yourself against the barometer of "significance," from here on in you are the only person who can determine whether certain experiences are legitimate or not.
Sarah-
So happy you found your way here. By the way-don't think I haven't been reading your blog, or that I don't find many things intruiging...I jsut have yet to feel compelled to comment...except on one of the last posts...I just haven't had the chance to comment yet.
It is interesting how a certain environment can be liberating for one and suffocating for another. I would not say it was "YU" in particular that was liberating but rather the university shift. But I suppose that the orthodox nature of the school while still being a university also had something to do with it...in terms of the nature of the chagigah. but i am not saying that stern in general is liberating;) it was just compared to yeshiva (not yeshiva university...or yeshiva college for that matter ;) but good, hardcore "yeshiva").
As to the issue of significance, my point was that my experience was genuine and relaxed, but bc of that it lacked a certain intensity that may have been fought for in the past, and perhaps sometimes forced, but nevertheless was present. so although it was genuine, the sence of being genuine may have prevented me from having a "significant" experience, meaning a true and intense experience of some sort of ideal... which simply means that that is where i am at and who i am right now. which is ok, but, let's call a spade a spade, that act may just not be experiencable for me now. that was my point.
Post a Comment
<< Home