Respecting Rituals.
Over the past several months I have experienced a few familial upsets. Some much more traumatic than others but each one, in its own right, has put me face to face with the daily routines and rituals I have been taking for granted. We hear it all the time: Stop to smell the roses. Take time for the small things. Live in the moment.
It is only as we get older and experience more of life’s ups and downs, that we come to appreciate not what we own, but what we have. Not things, but relationships.
It is only with years of building a life and home and family that we can begin to understand that how complex life can be; that it comes with its share of good and Lord knows its share of blows.
Last week end, while eating dinner at my parents house to celebrate the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, I caught myself tuning out the sound of my father’s voice as he sang the prayers for the wine, the bread, and the fruit with honey (to symbolize a sweet year). I mean really; how many thousands of times have we been in this scene? So, there I sat in my chair while my mind wandered off to other insignificant places. What could be more meaningful or more beautiful than the sound of heartfelt prayer? The sound of song? Why, for those 3 minutes, could I not remain present in the moment? Where did my mind go?
Embarrassingly enough, my mind traveled to the mundane everyday drudgery of the mess in my house and the laundry creasing itself while waiting to be folded, the deadlines looming.
My father is 77 years old. There will come a day when he will not gather us around his table and bless bread with us. I will miss that. I will long to hear the very song I tuned out. I will long to have him at the head of his gorgeously set table, eating of my mother’s food that none of us can duplicate in our kitchens. I caught myself meandering and this triggered a new appreciation for the rituals that dulled my senses a few days ago. I am now fully aware that these are the moments. Gathering my family around their grandparents’ table and participating in the rituals that are mine to hand down to them is the stuff of life. Laundry and housework is just stuff to do.
Take a breath. Stop and think about what your moments are and then consciously decide to live in them. I can attest to the power of this. My Dad does not have a good singing voice. His has been the butt of our jokes for over 30 years now. But, when I found my mind wandering back to the table and caught myself listening, truly listening, I could swear, I felt his soul reach out through his voice and bless us all.