rest

This past weekend, Caroline and I decided to explore spirituality.  Well, we are always exploring our spirituality on our weekly shabbat walks to the Kaminezki family, but this weekend Caroline requested to be "shomer."  Now, the last time I can remember not turning a light on during Shabbat dates back to a completely different time in Muth family life.


I remember going to my savta's house with Daniel and Gilad and waking up really early in the morning with no lights on in the house, except in the kitchen and bathroom.  There would be tea on the table with a yellow sponge cake.  I could smell chulent in the crockpot.  My brothers would be on their way to the small synagogue down the block with my grandfather, and I would make my way down later with Savta.  We'd sit in this tiny room behind the main room, with all these old books that had these cool designs on the pages' edges.  The only sounds from the other room we could hear were through this tiny little window up top on the wall.  We'd usually go back and eat lunch, and then enjoy time together.  I can't even remember what we did, but nothing about those moments seem difficult.


It's all kind of hazy now, and I haven't thought of keeping Shabbat like that in years.  In Binghamton, it was a tradition to go eat breakfast at Cracker Barrel.  In high school, I'd sleep in, then go downstairs and drink tea with my mom.  We'd probably talk for a bit, and then make our way to lunch somewhere else, but then spend the rest of the day talking about what I'd be doing at night.  In Ukraine, I travel, work, go out, talk on the phone, watch movies, cook, skype.


This past Thursday and Friday, I prepared all that I needed for Shabbat.  Chocolate cake, egg salad, eggplants, yogurt, cereal, hot water.  I switched on all the necessary lights and turned off the ones that would prevent us from sleep, shut my phone, made my call to America, prepared my bed, found reading material... Caroline and I were ready to stop moving and start examining because all that we needed had already been taken care of earlier.


All week, we prepare our mental state for Shabbat.  Now, I know that in the past I hadn't kept this tradition alive in practice, but technically, Saturdays have always been a rest from the constant purpose search.  On all the other days, we are constantly trying to find completion to our being.  6 days dedicated to "what am I doing here?" and "how do I make me better?" and "what do I need to do to get these kids to stop talking?" and "when am I going to get to Lviv already?" and "why does the bus always run late on days that I need to print?" and "where is my flash drive?" and "who is going to come to my seminar?" and "if I travel this weekend and spend money, will I be able to enjoy myself the weekend after?" and "am I ever going to stop this and...?" then Shabbat sneaks up while I'm mid-question, and I have to let go of all of those questions and be settled with my answers.


On Shabbat, I have reached my potential being and I need to look inside at what that currently means.  There is no more building.  I can't answer anymore questions about how to grow higher or wider or better or deeper.  I have to stop construction and start examining and scaling all the walls.  


All that I know about me can only be found within and I should not be working anymore to continue the search.  Shabbat, according to tradition, sustains us.  We have already found a purpose and we don't need to ask any questions to make us complete.