exodus

The full moon is tuesday, and the passover holiday. i haven't got any matzah and though I live amongst the Hasidim in Stamford hill, I feel like I am going to miss out on this holiday again this year. it is a reminder of distance from home and family, and for that i am a little sad. More than a little. I also feel the loss of this connection to my own history, and the breakdown of tradition. I suppose that is not all bad, but in the case of Pesach, I do feel like it is a loss.

As I reflect on the concept of Exodus this year, I cannot help but think of the huge changes that have happened in my life between these last two passovers. Last year, I was dancing a bit, but not really enjoying it anymore. I had a performance of sorts on the night of the first seder, and did not do the seder because of the show. I eventually regretted that, wished I had said my truth, and changed the time of the performance to facilitate the holiday. never mind. this year, i am well and truly alone, having gone through an exodus of sorts of my own. Have I reached the promised land, I do not know. I think the promised land is the fiction that keeps us moving somewhere, the illusion we must break down.

Exodus in theory represents the forces for change and the forces that resist change in every being. (by being, I mean entity. That is person, family, society, i suppose I don't know much about animals or amoeba, but i imagine that they have similar traits as well). Lucky are those of us who have a Pharoah outside of us to represent that resistence, because more often I believe that force comes from within. No matter how bad it is, somewhere inside is that part that says better the devil I know. At first he says yes, go. Get out. Move on. But then no. And every time comes the message, you cannot stay here. this is not the right thing. Growth must come, some way, some how. The cows die, but you resist and try to stay. The locusts come. But then comes the turning point, when enough is enough. This cannot be any more. But that force will chase us into the desert, that shadow, that part that says "stay enslaved. you are safe there. you know your place. you are needed. you belong." and then it takes a miracle. That magical door that only opens when you know you cannot look back. That red sea parting, that cross to the promised land. Again, lucky are the few whose demons are washed into the water. Lucky are those with a sea between them and the past that they cannot cross back over. and lucky are those who do not recreate their servitude on the other side of the waters.

So this passover, Looking back it has been a year, perhaps two of exodus(es). Personal, Social, Political. I have shed many things that were not serving my growth, painfully, dramatically, tragically and also beautifully. I have started to make moves forward, baby steps, towards living in a different way. Without the omnipresent fear. With aims that are bigger and more universal. In that I am aiming for a great parting of the seas, a great miracle to lead to wholeness, expansion, to be in the flow of life, which for me is living in the promised land.

Oh my soul, give me the light, show me the path. Give me the excellence and beauty to be bountiful, blissful, kind, compassionate and true to myself.
Hari Om Tat Sat.