Two sets

On this the last day of October, day 31 of 31, I recited the blessings with Asa immediately after we woke up. For perhaps the first time ever, I spoke them with no melody at all. Asa loved it. I am pretty certain he can tell the difference between Hebrew and English, and he's fascinated and delighted by the Hebrew words.  He even frequently applauded at the end of each blessing. (He was also in a very good mood!)

And I too was delighted to bring in the morning with him in this way. I rubbed my eyes for the awakening blessing, stretched with the words "stretched forth," moved freely with "sets the captive free," got out of bed and stood up with "straightens the bent," started walking with "makes firm a person's footsteps," and so forth.

And then a bit later, I was in the car driving to Caratunk  for a walk, and I wanted to move through the blessings again, this time singing. Why not do them twice?!

At Caratunk, there were plenty of signs of the recent storm, most notably lots and lots of water rushing down the stream and spilling out into the wetlands that surround it. The leaves are mostly down now, and the openness was almost startling. I wandered through another feeding flock, and this time I could see them all so easily as they flew from branch to branch. Only the beech trees retain their leaves, and they bright gold. Oh so lovely!


This month of writing about the morning blessings has also been lovely. Attempting to put this practice into words has deepened the practice and sharpened my focus. I feel no need to stop. I have a number of ideas about what might come next...

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim oter yisrael betifarah. Blessed are You, the Beautiful, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who crowns Israel with Splendor.

Blessed are You, Loveliness, Our God, who brings us the beautiful month of October!

Papa Nate

my cousin Paul and sister Sarah with our Papa Nate
Memorial Day 1979

Today is Papa Nate's birthday, and in celebration I looked through my oldest photo album. I took this photo of him with my first camera, and I think it captures a little of Papa's "us kids" attitude. How we loved hanging out with him!

Papa's name is Nathan Abraham Moscovitch, or in Hebrew Natan Avraham. Natan means "he gives," and I often think of him whenever I use the Hebrew word noteyn, which appears twice in the blessings.

My morning blessings today were silent at the end of a welcome nap. It was different to recite them silently but I managed to concentrate reasonably well, and it was very peaceful. Allowing the wholeness of the blessings to reside in the unspoken is a little like memory. And along with the words of the blessings, I also could hear Papa saying, "Well, hello, Rosanna!" It is a memory of his voice that I can always conjur up, and that I treasure dearly.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim hanoteyn lesechvi vinah lehavchin beyn yom oveyn lilah. Blessed are You, the Provident, Our God, Life of all the Worlds, who gives the bird of dawn discernment to tell day from night.

Blessed are You, the Loving One, Our God who gives us beloved grandparents.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim hanoteyn layaef koach. Blessed are You, the Renewing One, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who gives strength to the weary.

Blessed are You, the Eternal, Our God, who keeps our loved ones near through vivid memory.

Storm

Today was a storm day as Hurricane Sandy did its thing. It rained and gusted all day, and we were all home all day. As seems to be my way on days when I do not get out, I recite the blessings while doing chores. I sang as I put away Asa's cloth diapers and looked out the window at the branches and leaves being buffeted by the storm. It was reassuring to be working with my hands and doing something entirely mundane while I watched all that power outside.

And now, this evening, it is quiet outside, and we have escaped relatively unscathed, but I know that many others are not so lucky. I am grateful for our cozy house, for the electricity that powers this computer, for all the good food we have on hand to nourish us with or without electricity, for the care and concern of loved ones near and far.

And I am in awe of the power of the storm, of the wind, of the waves, and of the rain.

October 29, 2010, was Halia's due date. Today I think of her often and of the storms of losing her. First there was the storm of the chronic placental abruption that pummeled my health and ultimately killed her. And then there was the storm of grief. Periodic squalls still come through. It has all been such an exercise in surrender to that which I do not control, of finding places of shelter amidst the storms, and of learning to ride it out, to be with what is.

And I am aware too of the quiet that follows the storm, the settling down, the gentle awakening to new realities and to the possibility of a rainbow. These two years later I am grateful to find myself emerging more and more from the storm, to be blessed with my "rainbow" Asa, and to rest in the quiet.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim oter yisrael bigevurah. Blessed are You, the Mighty One, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who girds Israel with strength.

Blessed are You, the Awe-Inspiring One, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who reminds us to surrender to forces much bigger than anything we can control and who gives us the strength to ride out whatever may come.

In the Kitchen

I cooked a lot today. Big batches of food. And so, naturally, I sang the blessings in the kitchen as I finished up putting a chicken in the crock pot. I had been cooking with Asa on my back, and all my attention went towards him and the cooking. Then James took Asa off to play, and suddenly I was happily singing the blessings and sailing through the rest of the tasks! I thought to myself, wow, what a difference it makes to sing. Look at how the blessings make everything seem brighter. But, really, I have to admit that the big difference was not carrying Asa as I worked.

Nevertheless, it is fun to have his eye on things, to see what he points out, to give a running commentary about what I am doing. With him around, I pay attention to the everyday in new ways.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim pokeach ivrim. Blessed are you, the Lamp, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who makes the blind to see.

Blessed are You, the One Who Sees, our God, who helps me pay attention.

Living Room Services

This Shabbat morning, we had originally planned to go to services at our synagogue, but because Gabe was still recovering from being sick yesterday, we decided to have our own services at home instead. Our living room faces east so it feels like a natural place for a little davvening. James and I donned our tallitot, Asa crawled around on the floor exploring a bag full of more bags, our cat Moonlight chased glints of sun, and Gabe lay on the couch.

It was a condensed version of Saturday morning services, hitting all the parts of the service that Gabe is learning for his bar mitzvah. For the first time in a long time, I chanted the morning blessings using the melody we use in synagogue. I didn't quite do it the way we do it there: opening words in Hebrew, specific blessing in chanter's choice of Hebrew or English. Instead, I did all the words of each blessing in Hebrew and then in English. I have grown attached to hearing all the words in both languages every day. (Poor Gabe wishes I would just get on with it...what he doesn't understand is that was an unusually fast rendition, for me!)

It is always interesting to hear the blessings in the context of the larger service after reciting them alone all week. I love them more and more the better I know them, which makes me wonder what the service would be like if I devoted that kind of attention to each prayer. Ah, such a rich and multi-layerered tradition we have!

This week's parsha is Lech Lecha, in which, among other things, Abram becomes Abraham after God makes a covenant with him. Reading it today made me think back a year ago to Asa's brit milah and brit atifah and what it meant to celebrate his birth with the an acknowledgement of the covenant. I did not hold such rituals for Gabe, but it feels like we are making up for that now as he prepares to become bar mitzvah.

[God] then took [Abram] outside and said, "Look at the sky and count the stars. See if you can count them." [God] then said to him, "That is how numerous your descendants will be."
~ Genesis 15:5 (translation by Aryeh Kaplan)

I do indeed feel myself to be one of those stars in the sky and that I have added another three to the multitude.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim she'asani yisrael. Blessed are You, the Ancient One, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who made me of the People Israel.

Blessed are You, the Fount of Knowledge, Our God, who has made us part of a rich and dynamic tradition.

Serving

Today I recited the blessings as I walked to a nearby store to buy food for the soup kitchen where Gabe's Hebrew School class was scheduled to help out later in the day. The sun illuminated some glorious trees along the way. I was so tired but walking through all that beauty gave me the energy I needed to get through the rest of the day.

As it turned out, Gabe was sick, but Asa and I went to the soup kitchen anyhow. We have done this routine enough times now that the scene and the people are becoming familiar. The whole enterprise is small-scale and personal, and every time I am touched to see the kids serving the food, and more importantly serving the people who are eating it. The kids act with a natural courtesy and deference for people who I am guessing are not always treated with respect. It is a beautiful expression of how we are all b'tzelem elohim, made in God's image.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey she'asa li kol tzorki. Blessed are You the Generous our God who provides me with all I need.

Blessed are You, the Wise, Our God, who reminds me of all I have and allows me to help provide for those in need.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim she'asani betzalmo. Blessed are You, the Imageless, Our God, Life of all the Worlds, who made me in your image.

Blessed are You, the Creator, Our God, who made each and every one of us in your image.

Repetition

This morning I had to do some very repetitive data entry for several hours. Part of me finds it boring and gets antsy after a while, but there's another part of me that relaxes into listening for the rhythms of the task and making them work for me. I am soothed by such droning activity, free to let my mind wander and settle.

And I wonder about this ability to do the same thing over and over again. We all seem to have different thresholds for how much repetition we tolerate, for how much repetition we seek. I thrive on routine and repetition, but my son Gabe can barely tolerate it. Why are we so different? And what is the importance of repetition in a spiritual practice?

Obviously, repetition is a big part of this practice of reciting the morning blessings. On many days, it's the baruch atah adonai part of the blessings that is most appealing to me, the part that is exactly the same every time. My appreciation of the words and of all the qualities each one evokes grows with each repetition. There's a spaciousness in the set of blessings that allows each word to expand and come into its own. I don't have to devote any attention to remembering the words or to considering the individual meaning of a particular blessing, so I am free to savor each little detail of how the word interacts with the melody or how a consonant resonates. I can almost imagine painting or sculpting each word.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim she'asani bat horin. Blessed are You, the Free, our God, Life of all the Worlds, who made me free.

Blessed are You, the Creator, our God, who made me free to find wonder in the tedium.

Awake?

After another night with very little sleep, I wanted desperately to keep sleeping. No luck!

And so, awake I was, early enough to watch the dawn come and light up the hill across the river in all its fall glory. In the process of putting away laundry, I walked past the western window at regular intervals, as if I was watching a time-lapse photo series. It was thrilling to see how the colors of the sky and the woods changed each time, growing more brilliant step by step.

Autumn Dawn, a quilt by Ann Brauer 

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha-olamim, hama'avir sheynah me'etna utnumah me'afapay. Blessed are You, the Awakener, Our God, who removes sleep from my eyes and slumber from my eyelids.

With gratitude, I open my eyes to see the beauty even when I might rather be asleep!

Wrestling

This morning I sang the blessings to the Fun. song "Carry On," a fitting, title on a day when I had to will myself into the day and the work required of me. I had a night of wrestling with the bones I cannot seem to stop picking, the grudges I nurse, the frustrations that gnaw at me, and most of all the tension that keeps me from relaxing enough to sleep. I am tired from the struggle, from feeling stuck, from wanting things to change when they don't. And yet, I have some peace with the idea that this struggle is part of what it means to live and change and grow.

Gabe too last night was stuck with his demons, or maybe with a reflection of my struggles. He is beginning to wake up to the tensions of adulthood, to the disappointments of what must be done versus what it is fun or most satisfying to do, to the challenge of finding joy in whatever is in front of you. As always, I want to protect him from these hard realities, I want to protect him from my ups and downs, and I want his life to be all smooth sailing. But I can't.

So, instead, I sing my blessings, and once again, I will strive to make my mostly personal and internal practices more visible, more apparent because I am sustained by them, even through the valleys of a night of wrestling. May we be like Jacob, and find God in the wrestling.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha'olamim she'asani Yisrael. Blessed are You, the Ancient One, our God, Life of all the Worlds, who made me of the people Israel.

Blessed are You, the ineffable, Our God, who made me one who wrestles with God.

Two Tunes

On another beautiful morning, as we move towards late autumn with the brilliant orange leaves falling fast, the oaks beginning to turn, and more of a rustle to all the leaves, we wonder at the warm temperatures. It's lovely but unsettling.

As I wait for a melody to emerge, I am not sure what character it will have today, and I am surprised to find a mournful simple tune. The intervals send a tingle up my spine, and I know that it is exactly as it should be even if surprises me.

After a stop on my way into work, I finish up with the rest of the blessings and wonder what I want to do next. Suddenly a second tune comes tumbling out, this time much more hopeful. And so I repeat the blessings in this new mood.

And sure enough, something that was troubling me as I made my way across town, that made me want to weep at my first stop, came to a happy resolution as soon as I entered the office, mirroring the change in tune.

Children's Generosity

This morning we went to the birthday party of one of Gabe's friends at Purgatory Chasm in Sutton, Mass. About ten kids and some of their parents made our way through the rocky chasm. The kids were like goats climbing all over the place, the adults a lot more cautious and slow! The trees and their golden leaves were lit by bright sunshine, and the sky was a deep blue overhead.

After the hike, we all had lunch together, then homemade cupcakes, followed by the traditional opening of gifts. The kids were so dear in their gift giving. Each gift was thoughtful and personal, the givers were eager to give, and the birthday boy specific and articulate in his gratitude. As my mother would say, it did my heart good to watch these dear children treat each other with such kindness and generosity.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha-olamim she'asa li kol tzorki. Blessed are You, the Generous, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who acts for all my needs.

Blessed are You, the Loving One, Our God, who endows us with loving kindness and generosity.

Source

Feeling Blessed

A little ditty bubbled up as I dressed Asa this morning. It made him smile, and I kept singing it as I made our breakfast. By the time, I got into the car to drive to work, I was interested to discover how it might work with the blessings. Not bad, but probably not worth repeating.

The ditty moved at a fast tempo so I had plenty of time left to see what else was there, and what emerged with a long list of all the ways I am blessed.

I am so blessed by the sun that shines.

I am so blessed by the trees and their leaves.

I am so blessed by my sons' smiles.

I am so blessed by songs that burst forth.

Glorious Woods

Another gorgeous fall day with the maples in full glory. My drive to pick up Gabe from school was filled with brilliant oranges, reds, and yellows. And in the woods, there was beauty at every turn.

I set out on my walk in Caratunk at a fast clip because I was chilly. Before long, however, I stopped to watch a bird, and then another, and another and another until I realized that I was in the middle of a mixed-species feeding flock of maybe 20 birds, including some darling little kinglets. I was totally captivated! The birds seemed to be traveling along the same path I was walking so I slowed my pace to theirs and ambled along as they flitted from tree to bush. A woodpecker tapped out a rhythm, the nuthatch ran up and down a trunk making its distinctive call, the kinglets sang at a high pitch, and of course, the chickadees added their chicka-dee-dee-dee. 

I finally moved along ahead of the flock and made my way to Monument Rock where my heart always seems to be its most tender. Today the rock held me while I wept, overcome by a big wave of grief for my sweet Halia, who would have turned two around now. Up until now, I have not been willing to let that grief come at Caratunk where everything is so potent for me. Today when it came, I was still afraid but also willing, knowing that I would not drown in it.

On the ground by Monument Rock was an abandoned butterfly net with pinkish purple netting, such a girlie color that seemed to speak straight to my grief about my lost daughter. I picked it up and decided to carry it back to the parking lot, where its owner might be more likely to find it. Plus, it comforted me to have something to hold onto as I let tears fall, as I let each new wave break and dissolve some of the crusty places around my heart.

Taking photos, too, distracted me enough to keep going. Someday I will return to being present only to what is, instead of also to what I might write about or what I want to remember. Someday I will not need to cling to the beauty I see, someday I will again be able to be in these woods with a full and open heart, unafraid of just being. For now, I am grateful to be able to be there at all, grateful for my footsteps on the crunchy leaves, grateful for the smartphone that accompanies me like a well-loved blankie, making me feel a little more secure as I find the courage to put one foot in front of the other and live my life without my daughter.

And then the waves die down, the tears stop flowing, and I return to noticing the beauty all around me, to listen to the sounds of the flock that has caught up with me again. Their cheerful chatter makes me smile and suddenly my stride is lighter and easier again.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha-olamim malbish arumim. Blessed are You, the Compassionate, Our God, who clothes the naked.

Blessed are You, the Source of Comfort, our God, who protects and contains us in our tender places.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha-olamim hamechin mitzadey gaver. Blessed are You, the Way, Our God, who makes firm a person's footsteps.

Blessed are You, the Omnipresent, Our God, who is with us every step of the way.

Midway

Here on October 16, I am at the midpoint of these 31 days. The center of this journey.

This morning I awoke from two related nightmares, feeling vulnerable and in need of soothing. This morning's melody was not my own, but rather a song that I heard the synagogue choir practicing on Sunday: Shiru L'Adonai by Julie Silver. I was singing it as I got ready this morning, and I was pleased to find that the blessings fit quite well with the melody.


Shiru L'Adonai Baruch atah Adonai eloheinu chey ha'olamim roka ha'aretz al hamayyim. Sing, Blessed are You, the Fashioner, Our God, who stretches forth the earth upon the waters.

Shiru L'Adonai, Blessed are You, the Abiding One, Our God, who returns us to the dry land of a new day as we awaken from unconscious waters of our dreams.

Love

This morning the blessings dashed off quickly, bubbling up, released into the day.

From there, I spent some time with Elohai Neshamah and onwards into some prayers of my heart.

my mother, left, with her grandparents, Rose and Meyer Moscovitch,
and her siblings Ruth and Ed, c. 1952

Once again, I invoked the grandmothers of my grandparents, grateful for their loving presence and wisdom.

Blessed are You, Loulie Howell, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Esther Gittel Cohen, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Ella Marshall Stimson, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Zlota Weinstein Feit, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Emma Clary Webb, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Jachet Donner Breitowich, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Anna Nicholson Gordon, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Blessed are You, Mariam Moscovitch, may I be a blessing to you. Your memory is a blessing to me. I am surrounded by your love.

Chores

This shabbat I truly rested from a ny housework, which meant that there was plenty awaiting me this Sunday. I set to work first thing in the morning, getting some laundry ready and found a morning blessing melody swirling in my head. Taking that hint, I started on the blessings and made it about halfway through before I got interrupted by a baby needing attention.

Before long, I was folding laundry and resumed the blessings, now in the late morning. Adding blessings to chores not only made the chores go more easily but even reminded me that there are blessings in the folding of laundry, in the opportunity to do something mindfully with care and attention.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha'olamim malbish asurim. Blessed are You, the Compassionate, our God, who clothes the naked. 

Blessed are You, the Everpresent, Our God, who brings holiness to the mundane.

As a bonus, I also got to look out the window at the trees as I folded. Just when I sang oter yisrael betifarah...who crowns Israel with splendor, out came the sun for the first time today, setting the turning leaves aglow.

On Creation

On this Shabbat morning, I led meditation at our synagogue. I try to have the meditation draw from the week's parsha: Beresheit this week, the very first one! In the Beginning...

To begin, we changed six of the morning blessings in moving meditation, a practice that I began five years ago. It was fun today to pick out the ones that related to this day and to the parsha.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha'olamim....

...hama'avir sheynah me'etnah utnumah me'afapay...the Awakener, Our God, who removes sleep from my eyes and slumber from my eyelids...a must-do for me, especially these days with a teething baby!

...hanoteyn lesechvi vinah lehavchin beyn yom uveyn laylah...the Provident, Our God, who gives the bird of dawn discernment to tell day from night...and then there was day and then there was night, the first day.

...malbish arumim...the Compassionate, Our God, who clothes the naked...always one of my favorites and felt important on this cool morning, the first morning of this autumn when we needed to turn on the heat and be sure to wear warm clothes.

...zokeyf kefufim...the Helping Hand, Our God, who staightens the bent...when we do the motions along with the opening words of the blessings, we start by bending our knees and end by touching the floor, and in the course of our movement we go from bent to straight twice...it feels right to bless that movement.

...oter yisrael betifarah...the Beautiful, Our  God, who crowns Israel with splendor...such splendor and beauty out the windows on another crisp, sparkling fall day where many colored leaves are highlighted by golden light.

...she'asani betzalmo...the Imageless, Our God, who made me in your image...another one straight out the parsha and one whose meaning never ceases to be deeply profound.

We continued from there to a seated meditation where we drew on Shefa Gold's teachings in her book, Torah Journeys, receiving with gratitude the gift of our lives, of our part in creation. (Second spiritual challenge and practice.)

Gratitude

On this Friday morning, I sang the blessings while cooking in the kitchen, Asa busy too on the floor by my feet. This is the best kind of busywork, and I am aware of busy-ness. The business of doing what we are meant to do. Working with our hands and feet, singing and cooing as we work, glad for the companionship but each independent.

The bright morning sun shines on our work, and I am aware of the bountiful nature of this time, grateful for the harvest that brings us our food, grateful for the growing boy so curious about our world, grateful for the light of the sun, grateful for my voice and the music it conveys, grateful for the words of my tradition. Blessed, oh so blessed.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha'olamim she'asa li kol tzork. Blessed are You, the Generous, Our God, Life of all the Worlds, who acts for all my needs.

Blessed are you, the Bountiful, our God, who grants us great abundance.

Big Blue Sky

I am not sure what my mood was this morning, but as soon as I got outside on a quintessential crisp fall day, I could not help but be in an upbeat mood.

A brisk, joyful melody quickly emerged, and I sang it with my full voice. Singing something so upbeat, in a major key but yet in Hebrew always seems like a little bit of a surprise to me. I ask myself if I can really do that, and then I smile as I go ahead and belt it out!

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha-olamim oter yisrael betifarah. Blessed are You, the Beautiful, Our God, Life of all the Worlds, who crowns Israel with splendor.

Blessed are You, the Glorious our God, who gives us a big bright, clear blue sky!

Rhythms

This morning Asa and I were able to wake slowly, drifting between sleep and awake in gentle waves. It was a sweet time of snuggles and awareness of how fleeting this time is with my precious baby boy.

A little later, our day in full swing, I drove to Caratunk for a rainy walk with the windshield wipers going in a steady rhythm. My recitation of the morning blessings took on a definite rhythm to match the wipers drumbeat.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey haolamim roka ha'aretz al ha mayyim. Blessed are You, the Fashioner, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who stretches forth the earth upon the waters.

Blessed are You, the Source of Patterns, Our God, whose rhythms and beats give structure to our lives.

Flow

On this morning, I am back to reciting the blessings in the car on my drive to work. I am not eager to return to the stresses of my job, sorry not to be outside for this sacred part of my morning. It can be tempting to take the morning off from this practice, to listen to the radio instead, but this ritual eases my transition, and I need it.

I let the blessings come one after another with a melody that has a second half that wants to be followed by the first half, inviting the flow of the blessings to continue after the set 15, wherever I need them to go, right on into my day.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey haolamim she'asani bat horin. Blessed are You, the Free, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who made me free.

Blessed are You, the Source, Our God, who inspires a free flow of prayerful song.

Always Changing

Another morning walk with Asa. Today we go one street over to where we can overlook the Seekonk River in all its glory. It is a calm, bright morning, still yet fluid. In this season of change, each day looks a little different from the last.

The river too is always changing. The tide ebbs and flows, the breezes and currents paint different patterns on the water, and the birds dot the surface busy with their comings and goings. Staring out over this wide expanse, I recognize the larger rhythms and patterns of which I am but a small part.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha'olamim matir asurim. Blessed are You, Redeemer our God, Life of all the Worlds, who makes the captive free.

Blessed are You, Source of All, Our God, who keeps things constantly changing.

Blowing Leaves

Asa and I took a walk this morning under a soft blue sky anad gentle warm sunshine. He sat tall in the stroller, surveying the scene with a princely air. I sang the blessings using the same melody as yesterday, moving through them a little more rapidly than usual, one flowing directly into another.

The wind picked up as we walked, and I listened to the sound of the the wind in the drying leaves still in the trees, the sound of the leaves falling gently, and the sound of the leaves already on the ground blowing around. It's a certain sound, an October sound.

Baruch atah adonai eloheynu chey ha-olamim hanoteyn lesechvi vinah lehavchin beyn yom uveyn laylah. Blessed are You, the Provident, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who gives the bird of dawn discernment to tell day from night.

Blessed are You, the Source of All, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who gives me discernment to hear the particular sounds of each season.

Autumn Sky

After a nighttime rain, the sky cleared leaving a lovely mist and unmistakable autumn light, leaves just starting to turn, a crispness and brittleness in all the plants.

The cats, Asa and I go outside, treading on the wet grass, smelling the autumn scents, gazing into the deep blue sky, watching birds on the wire and the waning moon hanging in the Western sky. Water droplets hang from the bittersweet berries, making even that

Asa crawls around as I sing the blessings and then asks to be up in my arms for the last several. We stand together gazing west at the moon and the trees and the river beyond. Asa's arm oustretched pointing at the birds and maybe too the moon, bringing into sharp focus the wonder of this beautiful morning.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha-olamim oter yisrael betifarah. Blessed are You, the Beautiful, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who crowns Israel with splendor.

Blessed are You, the Creator, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who fills us with wonder.

Girding with Strength

This morning my melodies were all over the place. The tune from Tuesday was in my head all through breakfast so I started with it but then let things change and change to a totally different, livelier melody that never quite formed enough to record. .I was pleasantly surprised by its liveliness because I was dragging a bit. Is the melody a reflection of what's going on inside me or is it a little boost to help transform what is going on with me? It's mysterious!

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Chey Ha-Olamim ozer yisrael bigevurah. Blessed are You, a Fountain of Blessings are You, the Mighty One, Our God, who girds Israel with Strength.

This one always troubles me a little. It's hard not to think of it in militaristic terms, which makes me not like it much. And I do think of it that way and then I challenge myself to move beyond that. Why does this blessing refer to all Israel when most of the others are much more personal? I like to think that it's telling us that there's strength in numbers, that there's strength in community.

Heading into work today I knew that the only way forward through my weariness is to find ways to work well with my colleagues, to take on our challenges together. To tap into the Might that girds us with strength.

Paths

I had the privilege of walking at Caratunk, my favorite Audubon refuge, today. I had already chanted the blessings that morning while nursing Asa. My mind wandered a little, fretting about my work, feeling overwhelmed and a little despairing. How can I possibly do what needs to be done?

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Chey Ha'Olamim hamechin mitzadey gaver. Blessed are You, A Fountain of Blessings are You, the Way, Our God, Life of All the Worlds who makes firm a person's footsteps.

Blessed are You, the Path Our God, who reminds us to take it one step at a time, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Ah, to walk these lovely paths, to practice putting one foot in front of the other amidst the beauty of fall! To feel my feet firmly on the ground. To take in the blessings of place and beauty. Ma Norah HaMakom Hazeh.

As always, at Caratunk, I am filled with gratitude. I must be the luckiest person in all the world to get to walk in this beloved place and see the beauty all around me.

Weary

The melody that emerged this morning as I drove to work highlighted the word "Atah." Atah means "are you"-- Baruch Atah, Blessed are You, and I like to think a point of connection between me and the Ineffable, between me and the Divine, between me and the Shechinah, between me and God.

I needed to feel that connection today because I knew that a hard day at work was ahead of me, and sure enough, it was a difficult as I expected. I finished the day totally spent and discouraged.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Chey Ha-Olamim hanoten layef koach. Blessed are You, the Renewing One, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who gives strength to the weary.

Blessed are You, the Loving One, My God, who accompanies even me in my weariness.

Awakenings

I had to wake up this morning at 5:00 to see Gabe off on a school trip. Naturally, Asa woke up too, and he was not particulary interested in my plan to go right back to sleep when Gabe departed at 5:30. I ended up with a little nap before getting up to face the day. Instead of my usual natural awakening with the stirrings of the house, I had to rely twice on my alarm, and each time I awoke startled from a deep slumber.

Baruch atah adonai eloheinu chey ha-olamim ha ma'avir sheynah metna utnumah me'afapay. Blessed are you, a Fountain of Blessings are You, the Awakener, Our God, Life of All the Worlds, who removes sleep from my eyes and slumber from my eyelids.

I needed all the help I could get to awaken fully today. I was so dazed on my way to work that I forgot that my new routine is to sing the morning blessings during my drive to work. Something on the I-95/Rte 146 interchange reminded me, so I managed to get a few blessings in before I arrived at work, aware only that I was not really aware.

Later in the evening, I stood outside in our backyard in the golden light just before the sun set and let the word Baruch come into focus. Blessed, A Fountain of Blessings. I felt the huge blessing of the gorgeous evening envelope me, rain down on me, and felt my feet on the ground, my center within me, and tuned into this fountain of  blessings that flows from me and back to me.