On Being A Jew

As I approached synagogue on Erev Yom Kippur, I saw a man standing outside the building, talking on his cell phone. I commented to my mother, "Look at that guy there. I'll bet he's a three-time-a-year Jew." (A three-times-a-year-Jew is a Jew who only goes to synagogue three time a year, on the holiest holidays.) Then it occurred to me: I am no better than him. Granted, I do not talk on my cell phone outside of synagogue; heck, I do not even bring my cell phone to synagogue, but I have become a three-time-a-year Jew. I realized it was the pot calling the kettle black.

As I sat in synagogue on Erev Yom Kippur and listened to my uncle sing Kol Nidre, I kept wondering about why I was there, sitting in synagogue, praying, fasting, asking G-d to forgive me of my sins, to inscribe me in the book of life. I wondered why I had to go and say the words in the book, why I had to sit there and listen to the prayers (as beautiful as some of them are), and I wondered what it meant if the words I said did not carry the same meaning for me as they did for me five or ten years ago.

I sat there, struggling with my inner self, my inner thoughts, trying to decide if I was a bad Jew. I no longer go to synagogue on a regular basis, in fact, I do not go at all except for holidays, if then. I eat out non-kosher dairy, and I keep Shabbos (sort of), but not to the extent others, more religious Jews, do, among other things. But does that make me a bad Jew? Better yet, is there such a thing as bad Jew?

I do what works for me, I do what I believe and what I believe in. It may not follow all the laws or traditions, but it is what I believe. Many will say that Judaism is not about doing what works for you or doing what you believe in; it is about doing and believing, plain and simple. And that's great. If those people have such great faith, such great belief, and the resolve to do it all, or even more than what I do, I commend them, I really do. It's not easy. Being a Jew has never been easy, and it was never meant to be.

Being a Jew is built on faith, and a lot of it. I no longer believe the way I used to; I no longer have the same amount of faith that I used to have. I do have it when it comes to certain things, but the rest I have been looking for that belief, that complete and utter faith, for some time now. Searching for the belief that I had when I was in grade school, high school even. It constantly eludes me. I still have faith, but it is not on the same level that I used to have it. And maybe I am not meant to find it. Maybe I am supposed to stay at this level of faith. Maybe, at this point in my life, I am where I am supposed to be, including in my beliefs.

My Version of a Thank You Card

It is said that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Well, in the days before Rosh Hashanah I felt like I was dying on the inside. I felt like my heart was ripped out from my chest and stomped on, over and over and over again. I wanted to retreat into my own little world. I wanted to not come out until it was all over. I wanted to wallow in my misery, and to hell with everything else. However, life did not allow me that luxury, and thank G-d it didn't. Because I was forced to go on with my life, to celebrate a holiday I truly did not feel like celebrating, I ended up feeling much better than I would have if I had gotten my way and was allowed to wallow and sulk.

Yet, it wasn't as simple as that. I was left with many unanswered questions, the foremost being "WHY?" Why did he do what he did to me? Why didn't he have the decency to at least tell me? How could he have just used me like that? The list went on and on. So I dared to something I would have probably never dared to before-I demanded answers from him. I never got them, but that's ok. I didn't think I actually was going to. And I'm ok with that, I really am. I'm not saying it still doesn't hurt a bit at times, but it definitely hurts a lot less.

I credit my 'recovery' to the huge support I found from my family and friends (including those on Hashkafah). You have no idea how much it means to me (or maybe you do) to have such great, wonderful, kind, and caring people behind me. Thank all of you so very very much.

I also want to wish everyone a Gmar Chasimah Tova. May everyone have a peaceful and meaningful Yom Kippur.

Great Way to Start Out the New Year

Well, it's over. My first, real, true love has ended. And not nicely at that. I don't feel like going into it, and I might not ever tell the whole story on here, but I just need to get a couple of things out. MEN ARE SCUM. No, they are lower than scum, they are the scum that feeds on the scum, the bacteria that grows on it, that eats away at it, only to produce more scum.

I feel so shitty right now. Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and stomped o n over and over and over again, then stuck back in. I feel like bawling my eyes out, but I don't want to. He doesn't deserve tears, nor the time that it takes to make them. He deserves nothing. If he can treat me like this, he does not deserve my time, pain, hurt, or anything. But here I am, blogging about him, taking the time to put it all down onto paper (as the expression goes).

However, despite how I am feeling right now, and will feel in the days and weeks to come, I know I will be ok. I WILL get through this. I WILL survive this to meet the man of my dreams, and this time he WILL be Jewish (let's not go into that right now, ok? I slipped up, and learned my lesson big time). I'll be ok. Yes, I will be ok.

I want to wish everyone a happy, healthy, peaceful, wealthy, successful, and great new year! I wish each and every one of you (and your families) the best in the world.