“And the word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai, saying: Arise, go to Nineveh, the great city…”

How often in your life have you heard God’s voice? Ever? Once? Many times?

For me…It’s a still small voice…very small…I have to listen hard. I hear it if I pay close attention.

When the whisper, the Still Small Voice, calls your name, do you run, like Jonah? Do you ignore the call? Do you do what you want instead?

Or when God calls upon you and ask you to be a messenger, like Isaiah, do you say, “Here I am, God! Send me. Heinini. Shalchayni.”

Me? Well…I don’t always like what I hear. Sometimes the task I’m given feels hard…too hard. I’m a writer and speaker. I’ve been asked to be a messenger, but sometimes I don’t feel up to the task.

God calls, we don’t always listen. We don’t always step up. Sometimes nothing happens. Things just stay the same…not great, not bad. Sometimes, though, when we don’t listen “bad” things can happen. We have to learn to survive in not-so-nice conditions – in storms, in the stomach of a whale.

Maybe we have to work at a job we hate…or we get fired.

Maybe we end up in a relationship that isn’t healthy…our significant other leaves us alone.

Maybe we end up living in a place that doesn’t suit us, or we’re forced to move.

Maybe we don’t make enough money….or we end up in debt.

Our life feels stormy…it feels darky, slimy, scary.

I’ve known this feeling and wondered whether things might be different had I followed through on that one project—that one I felt so inspired to write. Have you ever wondered if things would be different if you’d followed that inspiration you had? That sense of mission…that Still Small Voice that sounded…well…a bit like…you?

The Kabbalists say the Book of Jonah is the story of our lives life. You are Jonah. I’m Jonah, too.

Why? Because Jonah represents your soul. Your soul comes to earth to take a journey—kind of like a ride on a ship—that has a purpose, a mission—only it’s not supposed to be away from God. It’s supposed to be a journey with two navigators, a Captain and a co-captain moving closer together and toward a destination—the fulfillment of your purpose.

The problem is that we forget that purpose, the destination. When God, the Captain, tries to remind us, we often don’t hear, don’t listen or ignore the message. Or we run away from the job we were given. We stop steering the boat, steer in a different direction or jump ship.

All of these actions result in us traveling away from God…and away from ourselves, from that spark within us that has an agreement with God. This leaves us feeling alone in a strange place and often in a bad situation.

Eventually we must begin to heed the call. To listen…Sh’ma.

We have to remember our purpose, our mission…the journey we initially set out upon. A voice must stir from within…or is it from outside of us? Like Jonah being asked,” What is your occupation?” it asks, “What do you do? What have you done? What have you done with your life? Why are you here? Why were you sent? Do you remember? And did you heed the call? “

Take a moment. Can you hear the Captain calling to you? “Arise!”

Sh’ma….listen. Do you hear God calling? Are you being sent? Are you a messenger? Is that your life’s purpose…or is it something else? Will you go and fulfill it.

Shalchayni. Send me. I’m ready.

I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about as a Yom Kippur, Day of Repentance topic. This Jewish High Holy Day typically brings up issues of forgiveness. I didn’t really want to delve into that once again.

Then I watched an Oprah Winfrey Master Class video about surrender, and I knew. That’s my topic: surrender. If ever there were something for a Jew to forgive himself or herself for during the High Holy Days–or for anyone to forgive themselves for any time of the year–its for not surrendering.

More than that, simply commit TO SURRENDER. It’s one of the most powerful things you can do. Seems ironic since it’s actually a passive action. When you surrender you “let go and let God,” as they say in Alcoholics Anonymous. Then amazing things happen. Your path and your purpose are revealed.

In the Master Class video (link below) Oprah talks about jogging and talking to God and singing and praying. This has been my practice–my hitbodedut. Rebbe Nachman told us to walk in the fields and talk to God, to tell hand our problems over to God, to have a conversation with God. To listen to God. I don’t run, but I walk and I cycle. I often talk, plead, pray, chant, sing, ask questions, cry, listen…try to hear or see  the plan God has for me while walking or cycling. This is just what Oprah describes.

And while she focuses on what she wants, she lets go and surrenders. She allows Something Greater to bring her “this or something better… for the highest good of all concerned.” Those are the words are was taught to offer up as I asked for something–a way to surrender my desires to the Universe. And because she is aligned with the energy, sure enough her thoughts, her focus, her intention lines up with her desire and with God’s plan for her.

As always, Oprah just says it all. I couldn’t say it better even if I keep trying.  Her message is the message I take to heart today, for the upcoming High Holy Day, for the year, for my life. I pass it on to you, my friends. Surrender to something larger than yourself. There’s a plan. You have a purpose. Let it unfold.

Watch the video…(I couldn’t find the video anywhere to updload it–sorry–so follow the link).

My computer crashed a week and a half ago. It required that I take it into the shop and have it checked out. There was nothing wrong with the hard drive. The technician said it passed the diagnostics test. The actual computer worked fine. It had a software problem.

To solve the software problem the technician had to “wipe my computer clean.” In other words, he had to erase all the data off it.

Of course, I panicked. My whole business and all my writing projects exist on that laptop, not to mention years of accumulated files and data. Who knows what all is on there…not even me. Then I realized everything was backed up through an on-line program. I could download it all back onto my laptop…a slow process, but I could get all the data once again.

However, that left the other issue: software. The software had failed me. Somehow one piece of it had become corrupted. And now I would have to reinstall all of it piece by piece. While the hard drive – the internal workings of the computer – its body and soul – was working fine, the part of the programs, computer that tells it what to do – the mind and emotions – had failed.  Now I had a chance to add brand new programs.

Each fall we have a chance to wipe clean the computers of our personal lives – maybe not of all the data but at least of the programs that aren’t working. When the Jewish holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur roll around, we are asked to look at which “programs” – which ways of thinking, acting, and feeling – have failed us in the past year. And we are asked to commit to changing out those programs for new or changed ones. We acknowledge that there is nothing wrong with the basic workings of our computer. Indeed, our souls are pure. Elohai neshama shenatata bi t’hora hi. “Oh God, the soul you have given me, she is pure,” we pray each morning when we wake up. It’s the programs – the programming – we give that computer that mucks up the workings.

You don’t have to even be Jewish to participate in the High Holy Days. Take advantage of the time and the energy. (Check out my book for help using the 10 day period.) Jews and non-Jews alike can wipe clean their “computers” and install new programs, new thoughts, new actions, new feelings for the New Year. They can commit to thinking more positively, feeling more loving, peaceful, joyous, moving towards the targets they set more diligently every day.

What programs (and data) will you take off your computer this year and what new ones will you install? Will you actually run those programs and use them? Let me know.

Rosh  Hashanah begins at sunset tomorrow, Wednesday, 9/27/11. You then have 10 days to wipe your computer clean and install the new programs you want to use in the New Year. Good luck with your restore process.

On Erev Yom Kippur, my rabbi, Eli Cohen, gave a moving sermon about Psalm 23. This psalm is most often read after someone dies, so for most of us it bears a negative connotation. Yet, it is meant to offer us consolation during difficult times in general, not just when someone has passed on.

If you don’t remember the words, here is just one translation (there are many):

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He causes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. 3 He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

For most of us, this prayer holds little true meaning. Reb Eli, however, dissected the psalm line by line until he came up with a totally new translation (below). I won’t go through his whole sermon, although would like to mention two parts I found most meaningful.

First, the line “You prepare a banquet before me in the presence of my enemies” when truly understood gave this psalm an every-day relevance to me that brought tears to my eyes. Reb Eli explained, “In Hebrew, neged tzor’rai.  Neged means “in the presence of;’ but often with the connotation of ‘parallel to.’ You prepare a table before me in the presence of, parallel to tzor’rai.

“But tzor’rai is not ‘my enemies,’” he continues. “There is a different word for that. Tzor’rai is from the same word as tzar, narrow, tight, or restricted.  Like Mitzrayim, Egypt, the narrow place. Or tzuris, the Yiddish word for troubles. Or as we sing in the El Maleh Rachamim prayer, u-tzror bi-tzror ha-chayim, to be bound up, in the bonds of life.  Tz’ror. Bound, constricted. The same as the word for a ‘pebble,’ as a pebble in one’s shoe, that which oppresses.”

Thus, the word in Psalm 23 so often translated as “enemies” actually is a word for “those people or things which oppress or distress me.” According to Reb Eli, the line really means, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of, parallel to those people and those things that cause me my greatest distress.”

The next line of the psalm and Reb Eli’s explanation struck me poignantly as well. The question to ask at this point in the psalm is: “How do I respond when at the table and faced with these things that distress me most in my life?” How do we respond to life’s challenges?

The Psalm says:  ‘You anoint my head with oil; my cup runneth over.’  Reb Eli explained that this means we have the opportunity to respond like the best of our ancient kings—even in the manner befitting the Messiah. We realize that we can rise to the occasion; we can take the opportunity to respond from our most noble selves, our best or highest selves, and see that we and the situation overflow with possibility.

Reb Eli’s mother, of blessed memory, died this summer of breast cancer. He shared with us that she liked to say, “Everyone is dealt a full shissel, a full dish”—of blessings and of troubles.  The psalm reminds us we can behave at the most difficult times—when faced with life’s challenges—as if anointed as kings and that are cups are always full.

Later on Yom Kippur during the yizkor, or memorial service, we all read Psalm 23 together in its original translation. I still remembered Reb Eli’s translation and the meaning behind each line. I cried all the way through, not because I was mourning anyone in particular. Instead, I cried because the psalm suddenly offered me the consolation it is meant to offer. Here is Reb Eli’s translation; I hope it offers you daily consolation as well. (If you pass this along, please attribute it to Rabbi Eli Cohen.)

The Eternal G-d is my constant shepherd; I shall not lack for anything. 2 G-d brings me to rest in green pastures; and leads me beside calming waters, 3 refreshing my soul; leading me in the winding paths of right action, so that all will come to know G-d’s ways. 4 Though I will walk through the valley of the shadow of death, may I fear no evil, knowing You are with me; Your callings and Your proddings are of comfort to me. 5 You prepare a table before me corresponding to my greatest challenges; You call me to my most noble self; my life overflows with possibilities. 6 Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Sacred for the length of my days.

Copyright 2010 Eli Cohen

As I prepare dinner for Erev Yom Kippur’s meal and think about going to services tonight, I remember the liturgy of the High Holy Days and of the Day of Repentance. I always feel I have death sitting on one shoulder and life sitting on the other.

What will this year bring for my family and me? What does God have in store for us? At this time of year, these are questions Jews ask, especially tonight and tomorrow as we are told we must complete our prayers of repentance, we must end our process of seeking forgiveness, and we must hope that God has sealed us in the proverbial Book of Life.

And so I turn to a wonderful YouTube video that reminds me well… may it also serve as a reminder to all my blog readers, Jewish or not…that we must always be grateful for every day of life and live it as if it could be our last. Plus, we should be grateful to God for all that we have and for our time here on Earth and in these bodies. We should use them well, fulfilling our purpose, caring for each other and the Earth.

[]

My Jewish renewal community has a traditional of doing group aliyot. In other words, instead of calling up one person to say the blessing before and after the Torah reading, they create a theme around the parshah, the Torah portion being read, and call up anyone that feels drawn to that theme to say the blessings together. Then afterward the person who read Torah blesses the whole group in a way that also relates to that theme. It’s a beautiful tradition.

During the Torah reading on Rosh Hashanah, I went up for the first group aliyah. I don’t remember the exact words of the theme now—something to do with being noticed by God. Anyway, I found myself standing in front of the table with the Torah on it. I reached forward and touched the tzitzit, or fringe, of my tallit to the place where the reader was about to begin reading, and kissed them. This is a common ritual. Then the reader turned to me and asked me to hold the right tree of the Torah open as she read.

I had done this many times before. I had done all of this many times before. However, I had not been coming to services except on special occasions—like the High Holy Days—for about a year or more. (And I had sorely missed walking my spiritual path.) I gladly took hold of the tree…the tree of life.

As did, I took a deep breath. It felt good to be there with the Torah. I looked down at the words of the Torah and marveled at the fact that after so long a time away here I was standing close enough to watch this woman, my friend, read the handwritten Hebrew there in the scroll. I could see her moving the yad, the pointer, along. I could see the whole section of the scroll. I could feel the wood beneath my hand.

Longing came over me. This sacred text, this book reminded me… I sent up a prayer, a prayer: Please God, help me write my own Torah, my own story, my own book.

Then I remembered the book I had wanted to write…the book that suddenly made sense to write, that tied all my writing projects together, that tied my seemingly disparate areas of work into one cohesive whole…I knew what I needed to do.

It was as if the words, the message, came to me out of the letters of the Torah before me or flowed through the tree into my arm and up into my head—and gave me new life.

With great joy—and sadness—I let go of the Torah after the reading. I again touched my tzitzit to the scroll, this time to the spot where the portion ended, and then I received my blessing. As I walked away I knew, indeed, I had been noticed.

Have you ever had a similar experience? Has God noticed you in some way?

Last year I ran a series of 10 posts during the High Holy Days to help people with the t’shuvah process, the process of returning to their best selves. I have compiled those posts into an ebook called 10 Days and 10 Ways to Return to Your Best Self, A T’Shuvah Guide, that is now available on my website for the low cost of $7.

The 10 days between Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, are called the High Holy Days or the Days of Awe. They are a time for Jews–or anyone–to go inward and consider how to “do t’shuvah,” to turn back to God and to their best self.

This e-book provides 10-days of exercises to help you go through this introspective process. It gives structure to the Days of Awe so you can truly consider not only your sins and how to rectify them but how to achieve your full human potential.

Use this human potential tool that crosses religious lines to return to your best self–and to source–in just 10 awesome days. It’s a great tool for Jews, but, like most of the products I create, it’s applicable for anyone.

If you would like to order a copy of 10 Days and 10 Days to Return to Your Best Self, A T’Shuvah Guide, please click here. Please be patient if your e-book doesn’t show up immediately. I am handling fulfillment personally at this point. It is not an automated process  but a human one. Forgive me!



From the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, until the end of Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentence, Jews have 10 days to return or turn back–t’shuvah–to their best selves. How do you do this? Here’s an excerpt from my workbook, Get Ready, Aim, Shoot, and Hit Your Bull’s Eye This Year that will help.

To begin the process of t’shuvah answer the following questions. As you answer them, you will be developing your focus for the coming year and improving your aim.

1. Look back over the past 12 months.  How did you live, play, work, love, and behave? In general, what would you have changed about how you lived your life last year?
2. How could you have been a better you last year?
3. What would you like to do more of this year
4. What would you like to do less of this year?
5. How can you live your life fully this year?
6. What can you  do to reach your fullest potential this year?

Next, write down at least three new goals – targets you want to hit – for this New Year

For each goal, list three things you can do to help move you closer to achieving that goal.  These might be specific actions you can take or habits you can form that will bring you closer hitting that bull’s eye – accomplishing your goal.

Finally, write an intention statement to go with each of your goals. Make the statement quantifiable. For example, if your goal is to lose 10 pounds in the next 12 months you might write, “I intend to be fit, trim, and 10 pounds lighter by this time next year.”

To order this workbook, click here.

Last year during the Jewish Days of Awe, or High Holy Days, which extend over the 10 days from Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, to Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, I wrote a series of 10 blog posts that discussed different ways to use each day for introspection. I’d like to simply call your attention to these posts today, on Rosh Hashanah, so you can begin following them and making use of them. The first post can be found here. You can follow the posts from that day forward. (Most of the others can be found here.)

Anyone can use these posts at this time of year; you don’t have to be Jewish.

May you find them useful and though provoking, and may they bring you closer to God and to your best self.

This evening begins the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. Jews all over the world will go to synagogue and pray, beginning the yearly cycle of teshuvah, or return.

Return to what? To God and to our best selves. We review our lives and behavior over the last year and we make amends with God, with ourselves and with those we have harmed along the way. We set our intention to be better people over the course of the coming year. We set new targets and promise to try harder to hit the mark, admitting we may have missed the mark this past year.

In the process, we rededicate ourselves to our relationship with God. We deepen our bond or our relationship with the One who is within and without, We aksi ask for forgiveness and for another year of life as well as for our personal prayers to be answered during the course of the year.

Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi teaches that the High Holy Day period—from Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, all the way through until Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles—our prayers, rededication and teshuvah build the “God-field” for the coming year.  This God-field, which is the permeable membrane between the Infinite and finite, is not the Divine itself but rather the form in which the Infinite comes to us.

Rabbi Marcia Prager recently wrote about this teaching of Reb Zalman’s and explained that it’s important to pray with love and inclusiveness, allowing your human consciousness to attract the flow of Divinity and then to return the flow with love and dedication to its Source. By becoming an open channel for Source energy in this manner, we co-create the God-field, Reb Marcia explained. In this way, we create loving harmony with one another, becoming better stewards of the earth and healers of the environment and society. “Then we will see our prayers work and produce the goods results we pray for,” she says.

I found this teaching from Reb Marcia and Reb Zalman quite striking, since it is much like what I write about in The Kabbalah of Conscious Creation. When we create from the place of wanting to give as well as receive, our desires (prayers) become manifest.

However, it’s important also to connect with God, to feel the permeability of the membrane we call the God-field. When we can feel that the Infinite and the finite, Creator and created, Giver and receiver are not separate at all—in fact are one—then we do indeed, find our prayers answered.

May we all have our prayers answered this Rosh Hashanah and in the New Year…and may we all feel our connection with Source.

L’shana  tova. Happy New Year.