An Odd Dream

It is two nights after my conversion. I had an odd dream. Here is the gist of it:

I was on my way to try to get to a boat dock to meet someone or to get somewhere. It was late at night, and the boats were not running, so I had to take a train, and then make my way through the woods on my bike. I believe I was with my family at the time, but I was going to take the train alone. When I got there, the station agent knew me. I asked to use the bathroom, and not only did he show me where it was, he checked the stall before I went in to make sure it was empty. It was a bathroom in a train station, though, so it wasn't very clean. In fact, there was a hat sitting behind the toilet, which made me think that someone was watching me. But it only fell over onto the floor when I went over there.

There were many other people waiting in the train station, and everyone was tired and bored from having to wait so long. I checked the schedule, and there were some trains and some buses, all leaving at different times during the night. I was going to take the 12:24. Like many people in the station, I had a large suitcase. But I also had a small bag. I talked to the station agent, and then decided not to take my suitcase, because it was too large and stuffed with extra clothes I didn't need. There was an old, homeless-looking man sitting on a bench behind me with a dirty suitcase behind me. "I'll watch your stuff," he said. And I gladly offered it to him. Well, not gladly, but readily, because I wouldn't be taking it with me.

I watched as he unzipped the big, black suitcase, and began rummaging through my socks and other clean things. But as I walked away to go lie down in a different room, I had the sense that I knew that he intended to take something, and that's partly why I had given it to him, but I also knew that he wouldn't. Because he was looking for dirty things, and my suitcase was only full of clean socks and clothes with bright pretty colors. In short, it was way too clean for him, not to mention girly. Not really his style. So I was safe. But I was still uncomfortable that my personal laundry was in the hands of a strange old man I'd never met before.

In the other room, I looked in my small bag to see what I had. I was relieved to see that I'd brought my bike headlight with me, so that I'd be able to see in the dark, because there was no real path from the train to the dock. So I probably wouldn't be riding my bike but walking, and I would use the bike's headlight as a flashlight. Soon the train was boarding and everyone was lining up. The station agent was also the person who was going to drive the train. They were very short-staffed. But I was ready to go. I was ready to leave my things behind, and hope that I could make it in the wilderness, where I knew this train was going to leave me.

~

You may be wondering: what does this have to do with Judaism? So here's my interpretation: The old man was like the rabbi/rabbis whom I spoke with in my beit din. They sought to air my dirty laundry, but what they found in fact, was perfectly clean. Too, clean, perhaps, and they kept looking, hoping to find what they were looking for, and not finding it. The fact was, though, that that clean laundry was all that I was intending to leave behind. Judaism is the train, and it leaves during the night, driven by a familiar conductor - the same guy I bought my ticket from. I'm traveling alone, leaving my family behind, and about to enter a wilderness. It's also dark outside. But I'm prepared. And after my journey, I am going to be at a place where a boat, and someone I know will take me away to where I want to be. I have no way of knowing if this will happen, but I am trusting that it will, if only I take the time and do the work to get there. What I have in my bag is a light, and it's a bright light that will show me the way. I am not afraid. Because I've brought what I need, almost without thinking. I put the light in my bag as an afterthought. And I'm leaving my old laundry behind, because it is heavy and cumbersome, even if it's perfectly clean and wearable.

Mikveh Lady

I'M JEWISH!!!!!!!

It's done. I did it. the whole thing.

My Beit Din went on for an HOUR. Only afterward did the mikveh lady tell me that that was about twice as long as the longer ones usually take. I think they told me the whole thing would take and hour. Oh well! I don't know why I kept talking. I guess they found me interesting!

And they said very good things. And there was singing and dancing. And more later. Right now I am tired and I have a headache.

I left my nice new water bottle in the bathroom at the museum...ooh, la. Time for more sleep!

Last Day

My beit din and mikveh are scheduled for tomorrow. After all this time, now there is only one night left until I come before the rabbis, and then before G-d, immersed in the waters of the mikveh.

The Mikveh Lady called me today. We talked about what would happen tomorrow at the mikveh. She explained it's a very small place, with a lobby, an office, and the mikveh itself, which also refers to the room where the mikveh is. There is a bathroom where I can prepare myself.

She explained to me how I need to remove everything, and make sure not to wear makeup or hair products, or if I do, to wash them off before going into the mikveh. And before I enter the water, she will check my shoulders and chest to make sure no hairs from my head are there, because not even a hair can come between myself and G-d.

She recommended that I take a bath. I did not tell her, but I took a bath Sunday night. I had a stressful day and needed to relax. So I put some bubbles in, put on some nice choral music, and set myself in for a good soak. As I did, I began to think of the mikveh, and what it would mean to be immersed in those waters. How would I be cleansed? How would I be made new? Would I be or feel the same or different after I emerged? These are questions I won't know the answers to until tomorrow.

Tonight, I took a long shower. I cleaned, I shaved. I realized that I was more concerned with how my body would look than I normally would be if I thought I were going to be intimate with someone. Because when you are intimate, people often don't concentrate on the details, even if we think they might. And also the light is often low. Here, tomorrow, I will be standing before a woman in a completely sane and wakeful state, under some kind of light that would most likely reveal everything my body had to offer. She would see every hair. She would be looking for them. Though body hair, she said, was okay. Still, I wanted as little as possible. I wanted to feel fresh and new. Not naked as a baby. Just as unencumbered as possible.

And I found that I became more aware of what was on my body. After the shower, I put on lotion and realized that I could not do that tomorrow. Most days when I am getting ready, I am thinking about what I can put on. Tomorrow, I will be thinking about what I can't put on. I took off the nail polish that was chipping off my toenails. I thought about perfume and decided that not even a scent that was not my own would be coming with me. Though I've decided I will wear deodorant and wash it off beforehand. There's vanity, and then there's public presence.

In all, I feel ready. I feel relaxed. It's a little bit late. I feel all of my big thinking and philosophizing and studying funneling down into one moment. But when it happens tomorrow, I'll be ready.

The Period of Nidah

I just had the most interesting conversation with my Rabbi this morning. So now a small group of men is aware of the exact status of my menstrual cycle. I feel both exposed and empowered.

On the one hand, I have to share with a group of mature men (my beit din), most of whom I barely know - and actually, knowing them makes it slightly worse - the most personal of details. On the other hand, it means that, rather than me being on their schedule, they have to be on mine.

This is something I love about Halacha (Jewish Law). It may seem biased, at first, in favor of the men, but in actual fact, this is not the case.

To say that a woman cannot go to a mikveh during her period is probably, mainly, a matter of public health. It would not do to have bleeding women in public water. Nobody would like that. But, truth be told, I think it's more respectful to the women. If that were to happen to a woman, it would be embarrassing for her - or at least it would be for me. And it makes sense to cleanse and purify after the period of Nidah.

I like that this article points out that when a woman is "tameh" from the blood of menstruation it does not mean that she is physically dirty or somehow stained in some way, personally. It means that she reaches a certain status with regard to ritual distinction, and both the separation that she takes from her husband, as well as the purification and return to her husband are both sacred. Well, the article didn't say that, but I interpreted that from what I know.

We often think we know and believe that the Jews of ancient time and possibly today, somehow believe(d) a woman to be less than human during the state of nidah, as evidenced by their ritual "impurity." But really it is all part of a sacred cycle. A sacred breathing ritual, where you let one breath out in order to take the next one in. This is the rhythm of life, the heartbeat of our human race. It is special and sacred and divine. In my opinion, a woman cannot enter a mikveh when she is menstruating, because she is simply too holy during that period. Likewise, they also point out, and I have found in my own life, that this is a wonderful time in which to deepen your relationship with someone. In that time, you find out if the person really cares for you and wants to spend their time for you, or if they are just interested in "getting in your pants."

I also know that each period changes me slightly. The emotions that I experience as my period approaches bring new notions and insights about my life. They make me do and say things I might not do the other three weeks of the month, but I'm always grateful for the new perspective. And afterward, I relax. I go back to who I am and what I know, with the relief of seeing that one first spot of blood.

For me, if it happens that the rabbis are available when my period ends and I can enter the mikveh, then this will be a very special and sacred ceremony. Not only will it be the first time that I enter a mikveh, but I will do it in concert with my body and the cycles that it makes. In a way, I think, how wonderful and strange that it chose this time. But in that way, it also seems pre-built. It was already built into the architecture of my life, before the date even arrived. This date, in fact, has been circling around me, and now it proposes to land just exactly where it should be.

When I first read the date my Rabbi proposed, I thought, or rather felt it my gut, that it would not work. I thought, "I need another week to prepare." That was my body talking, even though I thought it was me (i.e. my consciousness. Maybe no difference?). At the time, even though I knew where I was in my cycle, the connection never occurred to me until this morning, when my Rabbi asked. And I knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

So this is where the power comes in. Because my body holds the power of Halacha. Halacha does not determine my body. My body determines the Halacha. It decides the schedule of events, and the Rabbis have no choice but to comply. Just as I have no choice but to follow the cycles it creates. It is entirely even. Both sides are fair. This is justice, because no one is excluded from the power of the body, no matter how much we think we might be able to break it and control it. In the end, all we can do is relax, and take things as they come.

Another very good article about nidah or niddah, can be found here.