This year, as September 11th approached, I found myself reflecting on the spiritual changes that were triggered by that day and how I relate to those changes now. Are they still valid for me now? Was it a detour? Have my beliefs strengthened or changed? This is not a normal year for me and I hunch it is not normal for anyone else. The pandemic has impacted all of our lives in some way. Murray’s declining health is also another factor and I am finding my daily life as a caretaker something very new and challenging. And of course we moved to Costa Rica the end of January this year. So this is a good time to assess if I am on the right track with a philosophy-spiritual path that can be helpful.
The 70’s saw me exploring Judaism through dance, looking to find how I might relate to prayers that up to that point had held little meaning for me. I found a sense of satisfaction by embodying the intent (or at least my personal intent) of the prayer through movement, at first in my own body and then later as a choreographer with the members of the company expressing my and their interpretation. The 80’s focused a lot on exploring the Torah through what we called dance midrash. A shift began toward the end of the 80’s and continued through the 90’s where the emphasis was in building bridges between communities, particularly the Black and Jewish community. Throughout all three decades I was looking for the feminist voice of the “divine.” And I was beginning to have my doubts about whether I could continue to relate to doing midrash to find the feminine voice in Judaism. So when 9/11 happened I was already questioning things a lot.
9/11 was itself especially traumatic because at that time we lived in Jersey City about three blocks from the river, directly across from the World Trade Center. In fact we usually took the PATH train into the WTC and then either transferred to a subway or walked. So WTC was very much part of our neighborhood. On 9/11 I was home when the first plane hit. Murray had gone into work early and was already through the WTC and at his job site. Our daughter Rachel called me in a panic, worried about her father, as she knew the route he usually took. I asked why and she told me to turn on the TV and briefly told me what happened. I told her Murray had left early but as soon as I heard from him I would let her know. Her voice was filled with panic, as she had been on one of the top floors when the WTC had been bombed back in 1993. She remembered the long walk down to the ground. Murray called in saying he was fine and I asked him to call Rachel and assure her he was OK, which he did.
Knowing Murray was OK, I walked down to the river and joined our next-door neighbor. The second building was still standing and sadly we could see specks falling from the top floors. They were actually people jumping. And then we saw the building collapse. Over the next days, smoke and a sharp strange smell were in the air. People were reaching out to each other in a way that they had not before. When we would see someone we knew even casually in our neighborhood, we would hug each other, glad to see we were OK. Everyone had their story to share about the day.
The Jewish High Holidays were around the corner and I will always remember the Rosh Hashanah Eve service where Rabbi Larry Raphael (of blessed memory) asked us to turn to someone we didn’t know and share where we had been on 9/11. The buzz in the room was tremendous. We wanted to talk to each other about our experiences. Then he guided us back to the service and it became flat for me. The prayers were not resonating.
Within a few weeks of 9/11 Thich Nhat Hahn came to town and a friend took me to a service he was leading at Riverside Church. It was packed and there was something about the event that was nurturing and I began meditating more regularly. I had been meditating before but hadn’t really gotten into doing any Buddhist reading nor did I know any of the philosophy. My exposure had been through Jewish adaptations. Within the next month Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg and Sylvia Boorstein all led events in Manhattan. I attended all three and my meditation practice deepened.
When we moved to Steamboat Springs there was a sangha there and on rare occasion I went. My next door neighbor was involved and we would often have meaningful discussions. In 2009 when we moved to Santa Fe I didn’t do much at all until 2011 when my mother was very ill and I wanted to find something meaningful. Jon Kabat-Zinn was speaking at the Upaya Zen Center and so I went to their Wednesday night Dharma talk and then signed up for a 4-day workshop Zen Brain: Consciousness and the Fundamental Nature of Mind. It was way over my head but I got a lot out of it. Meditation and Upaya became more a part of my life. I attended more workshops and for a while was attending the Wednesday night programs fairly regularly. When we moved to the south side of town and Upaya was a further trip I rarely went, but I did continue a meditation practice sometimes alone and sometimes with Murray.
So where am I at with my practice. The first several months here I did not meditate but lately I am returning to a more disciplined practice, finding it extremely helpful. It is clear this is the spiritual path for me. As I read more and participate in a Buddhist book group, I am finding so much that can help guide me at this time. I will always be proud of my Jewish heritage and love the years I spent studying and interpreting text and prayers through dance. The very basic premise of Buddhism, of discovering how suffering can be transformed into peace, is appropriate for me at this time. InThe Heart of the Buddha, Thich Nhat Hahn encourages us to “embrace your suffering and let it reveal to you the way to peace.”
We think this picture was taken in the early 90’s