in sync

for the past year and a half i have spent dawn and dusk at the sea. watching the sea, the shoreline, the waves, and the coast change with the ebb and flow of the moon, and the change of seasons, and the solstices. i had never followed something like that day after day for so long. it enabled an intimacy that i had never known before. the stones would speak to me, the sun rays would share their magic as they danced on the sea, and the coast was alive.  

when my friend said that he needed stones to cover the ground around the new house, i happily volunteered to sit by the sea and collect sacks of stones for the project. each day i would observe if it was high or low tide, and what kinds of stones and rocks the sea had brought ashore or swept away to the sea. different places around the house demanded larger or smaller rocks, round or flat, etc. after spending so many hours daily at the beach, i knew when and where the rocks were so that gathering 8 sacks a day could be an enjoyable easy task, or a tiring and difficult one, kind of like going against the grain, trying to collect little pebbles when there weren't any. i was sure that since he grew up here, he too knew the sea as intimately as i did, but when we collected stones together a few times, i realized that only someone that has sat at the same place day after day can really recognize the changes and nuances, and that deciding in advance what stones you are going to collect, does not make much sense, since maybe there are no pebbles today, only big rocks!

after a months respite from stone collecting for the landscaping, i finally returned to my place by the sea. i was in shock! instead of the intimate, beautiful, alive shoreline that i remembered i found "just a shoreline" and even littered with garbage that the tide had brought in. i looked around trying to see what kinds of stones i could collect today, but it all just looked abandoned. how could this be? i know a totally different reality. i remember it. i experienced it. i lived it. 

and suddenly i understood what the kabbalah has been teaching me for the past 8 years. that first we were "given" everything by God. and it felt good and right and comfortable and true. but we slowly were distanced from it until it was almost entirely lost. but there is still the "taste" the remotest of memories, the "point in the heart" and now it is up to us to purposely and intentionally be active participants in desiring the connection again, that intimacy with what is true and right and real. now we have to do it consciously, and not just be given it. now i have to feel the barrenness of being by the sea, not in touch, not in sync, with the life force that is there, with the holiness and rhythm that can be felt when one is a vessel for gods' will, and not just "taking". that there is abundance in the universe, and it is gods' desire to bestow it to us, on condition that we are active partners in it, and not just taking, raping, selfish, greedy, but have understood "the wisdom of receiving " ("chochmat hakabbalah"). 

the experience is entirely different when i am "in sync", "at one with"...rather than just coming to fill up my sacks with stones. it demands a listening, a respect for the other, patience, and trust. the sea and shoreline have not changed. it is only my perception of them that has changed. it all seems random, chaotic, meaningless. the harmony and flow and beauty are hidden from my egoic sight that has just come to "get some stones". and as i sat and looked at the waves, the rocks, the sand, the sea, i knew it would take time. i would have to slowly build up a "witness" again, that would notice the ebb and flow, and the delicate balance and changes that are perfectly in alignment with some greater plan. and all that was left was that little memory of what was, and is now gone. that is what is giving me the desire to now consciously create that delicate contact with nature that i have lost. and i know that once i have made that top priority, instead of "getting some more stones" to finish the landscaping, all the stones i will need will be waiting there as a gift to be enjoyed...but first i must become a vessel for gods' will to flow through me again...a hole in the pipe for His music to be played. it cannot be rushed. it will be built up slowly, day after day, with each small effort i make to show up and be attentive, to listen, to observe. i am grateful for the invitation.