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Meditation, Jewish Style
By TinaMarie Bernard
This past winter, I
traveled to New York for seven days of meditation, Jewish style.
Surprising for many Jews, I imagine, who might consider meditation to
fall in the sphere of Buddhism, Hocus-Pocus or Madonna’s Kabbalah. They
may wonder why a San Diegan trekked cross country – a trip that involved
15 hours, two flights, a bus and taxi – when there are numerous
meditation centers locally. I traveled to Elat Chayyim, a retreat center
devoted entirely to Jewish spirituality. Along with 110 people, I
followed an agenda of secular silence, meditation and prayer.
Jews – over a hundred of them – silent for a week? The answer to that
apparent contradiction is yes. We managed to cope quite well despite the
long, and very quiet, days. Our routine started early, before breakfast
at 6:30. Davening, meditating, journaling, yoga, contemplation, and
virtually no words for seven days. Imagine a group of our size: absolute
silence, eyes closed, breathing relaxed, and bodies motionless for 45
minutes. Then imagine us walking for 45 minutes in slow motion in deep
concentration before starting the cycle over again. Of course, we didn’t
neglect the basics: time was set aside for kosher vegetarian meals
(minus any talking), lectures on meditation techniques, and daily yoga.
Through the entire week, we spoke to no one except for scheduled
appointments with the Rabbi’s leading our retreat. Our days ended at 9
pm.
Why subject our tuchas to so much sitting for a week? Because it takes
that long to quiet the mind through directed thought.
Only when time loses relativity and senses sharpen, can insight,
intuition and calm shut out the static. Several days of contemplative
silence, prayer and chanting in Hebrew allowed me to reach a calm and
highly aware state of mind. It was from the ensuing stillness that I
began to recognized the mystery inherent in Jewish Meditation.
I’ve been intrigued ever since.
A Meditative Walk. When I first arrived, it was Sunday. The grounds of
the center were covered in snow, but the weather was rainy and we were
in for days of rain and thaw. Finally, on the following Sabbath morning,
we saw snow begin to fall. It continued for an hour, a canvas of white
enveloping our congregation inside. When the service ended, I bundled
myself up for a meditation walk outside.
It was a timeless hour. This was in part because I wore no watch, but
also because of the pace. To meditate while walking requires one to move
very, very slowly and very, very deliberately. Everything is experienced
with great focus, from the placement of footsteps, to one’s breath and
body movement, to the sensations of the outside world.
On this walk, I noticed things I usually would have missed. I heard how
a brook sounds different when you listen to its melody upstream vs.
downstream. I watched how snow really falls: what seems like only a few
flakes observed horizontally is a load of white when you look up into
the sky. I became quiet enough to hear an animal bustling in the spongy
snow covered ground. Finally, I figured out that snow was more air than
water. It took an enormous amount to quench my thirst.
This was far more than a lovely stroll. I actually experienced what
seemed like a merging with the quiet and serenity of wintertime. To say
this memory is one of my most vivid is an understatement. It ranks in
intensity and depth with the birth of my son.
A Brief History of Jewish
Meditation. In my first search for information on Jewish meditation, I
discovered limited references and mostly blank stares. For a tribe known
to have many opinions, information was not readily forthcoming. This
obscurity falsely implies that mediation has always been on the fringe
of Judaism. The truth is quite the opposite.
Meditation is an almost forgotten way of achieving spiritual
enlightenment with references in the Torah, Talmud and Kabbalah.
Evidence suggests that when the bible was written (400 B.C.E.),
meditation was practiced by the Israelites. Talmudic references describe
meditation schools that were linked to the biblical prophets.
Meditation was taught
with the intention of bringing people closer to God. These programs
required discipline and students were expected to be deeply
spiritual before a meditative practice was initiated.
Additionally, the Kabbalist Eleazar Azikri described Jewish
meditation as beneficial to the soul, and the Talmud sages were
thought to meditate before and after services. The Torah tells us
that Jacob meditated in a field. And Rabbi Akiva supposedly
practiced a type of meditation in which he turned in circles while
davening.
As long as Israelites were within their own homeland, the demands
and intentions of meditation could be managed. But once the Diaspora
scattered Jews, maintaining the rigor and spiritual depth of Jewish
meditation was problematic. By the time the Second Temple was
rebuilt (70 B.C.E.), the Jewish leadership balanced the benefits
with the dangers of having the masses meditate. They decided to
teach only the most qualified students, thereby preserving the
sacredness of Jewish meditation even while diluting the spiritual
experience for the average Israelite.
With the rise of intellectualism in the 1800‚s, mysticism and
anything connected to it was marginalized and reduced to an
intellectual experience. Even the ability to understand the language
of meditation was virtually lost as rationalists dominated the
discussion of Jewish spirituality. Chasidic and Kabalistic
traditions included mediation for a bit longer, but eventually
intellectualism prevailed here too. Jewish meditation, once integral
to Judaism, almost disappeared.
Meditation is back. With some searching, I discovered a resurgence
of information as well as a renewed passion in others to bring in
this aspect of Jewish spirituality back to our experience. The
teachings of ancient Jewish mystics are being rediscovered. For
example, on my retreat the facilitators made reference to Jewish
meditative practices of Abraham Abulafia, a sage in the 13th
century. At Limmud this past January, the morning meditation with
Alan Lew was so popular, they had to double the size of the room.
Classes, books, retreats – they are on the rise. The emphasis on
Jewish spirituality is popular these days.Meditation Novice. Of all
that I’ve discovered about Jewish Meditation so far, the truth is
that I’ve barely scratched the surface. My one retreat and few
readings still make me a meditation neophyte. I hunger to experience
more. I believe there is a great benefit to Jewish meditation: it
connects the intellectualism of Judaism to the profound and
mystical. It links me to something bigger than myself – the divine
if you will. While my practice is still solitary, I hope one day to
be part of a meditation group. So if what I write inspires other
Jews to learn about this sublime side of our faith, then I offer a
short list of resources to jump start your own meditation practice.
Shalom.
TinaMarie
Bernard is a staff writer for The San Diego Jewish Journal.
Please see
www.tinamariebernard.com
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