Samain Thanksgiving Moon
The sabbath as a day of rest fascinates me. It seems, in our ramped up and goal oriented culture, it’s easy to lose sight of truly important matters: family, inner work, reading in a spiritual or religious tradition that works for you, meditation.
While investigating a Reconstructionist Judaism understanding of the sabbath, I came across an idea I’d missed in previous study. The sabbath is not a day set aside from work, though it is that; but, more specifically, it is a day set aside from creation. On the sabbath we rest from making, from shaping, from forming. Why? Well, of course, there’s the 7th day in the Genesis account of creation. There’s also the notion of not arrogating to ourselves the creative power of the universe. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t create. It means we should be clear about the limits of our creative abilities. Taking a day off puts a clear barrier between us and a life submerged in effort.
I’m easing into this starting this week. Therefore, this post, though an act of creation, is a signal not to expect a post from me anymore on Saturday mornings or during the day. If I make a Saturday post, it will be after sundown when the sabbath ends.
So next week, no Saturday morning post. We’ll see how this experiment goes.
And so. Climate is what you expect. Weather is what you get. Trump and his rhetoric is now the national climate for acts of hate. I expect people like the KKK, Westboro Baptist, climate deniers, women haters, anti-Semites have been emboldened to act both by Trump’s rhetoric but also by the violent, thuggish behavior he not only allowed but reveled in at his rallies. In other words the climate relative to non-white, non-male, non-European, non-Christian, non-straight life is turbulent and chaotic, tending toward personal acts of violence and scorn.
On these matters I believe defense is the strongest act right now. Reaching out to the government for help against these grievances will prove futile. Jeff Sessions as attorney general? Come on.
Here’s an odd outcome of the election. I’m planning on joining Congregation Beth Evergreen. Strange, huh? Turns out you don’t have to be Jewish. Weird, to me, but true.
Then, there’s Rabbi Jamie Arnold. He’s an unusual guy: an athlete, a good musician, a composer and arranger, too, an intellectual, and an embodiment of compassion leavened with toughness. This combination of skills and character make him a compelling leader.
But mostly there’s the potential for action against the impending Trump regime. Politics is not a solo sport; it requires allies. Congregation Beth Evergreen seems to have a core of folks who’ve done actual work in political situations. It clearly has a number of folks who want to do work on the Trump watch. That includes me. My politics and my spiritual journey have always been tightly wound together so working with folks at Congregation Beth Evergreen seems like a continuation.
And, improbably, it will be Thanksgiving next week. There is no hint of over the river and through the woods weather to stimulate that Thanksgiving feeling. We may get a storm on Thursday. That would help.
He sits, early in the morning, while it is still dark outside, with his head in his hands. Orion, his longtime friend hangs in the sky visible to the southwest, Scorpio and Cassiopeia and the Drinking Gourd out there, too. A crescent Thanksgiving Moon, waxing toward its Super Moon event on November 25th, was visible last night.
In this case Trumpism is the monster, a living candidacy patched together from a body of populist resentment, the brain of a nativist bigot, the nervous system of fearful white males and the legs of second-amendment worshipping other-phobic citizens. The arms, though, the arms are Trump’s, dangling like the tentacles of a squid, ready to grab, squeeze, embrace. Force. Trump is Frankenstein to this political moment in the Republican Party. The GOP provided the lightning that brought this monster to life and has paraded it with pride through this mockery of a campaign.
Race relations are in a visibly violent phase. Police kill black folks with so steady a drumbeat that it has become like Trump’s long string of insults to America, dulling our capacity for outrage. Misogyny is at its peak in the Donald, powerful at the same time as our first serious female candidate.
At 12:30 we drove over to Evergreen for mussar at Beth Evergreen. It was Rabbi Jamie’s birthday and each woman brought a cooked or purchased offering of some kind. We had cranberry juice with tea and mint, apple juice, brie and a wonderful soft cheese, warm carrots, pistachios, cashews, strawberries, grapes, melon, crackers, chips, guacamole, a birthday cake, sea-salt caramel and chocolate brownies (Kate, see pic), with Halloween plates and napkins.