Three

For much of the last decade I have kept a blog, for 7 weeks of early spring.

My first blog (hosted on this very website), rebeccaat22, documented my year abroad in Israel, reflecting on Jewish identity, marginalized Israeli populations, and an entry point into my spiritual subconscious. My next few blogs, perhaps as a result of that year, perhaps as a result of other factors in my life, have been about Sefirat ha’Omer – this period of time that, for me, activates a personal experience of change and transcendence like no other points on the Jewish calendar.

It has been several years since my last Omer post, years filled with a cross-continental move, the birth of two children, the evolution of a “startup” project into a national organization. Sefirat ha’Omer, the period between Pesach and Shavuot, coincides with wheat harvest, and traditionally (in Temple times) culminates with the replacement of a sacrifice of barley with two challah breads. Full growth, from grains to baked bread. Somehow, in these last years, my harvest time has far exceeded the 49-day period. I couldn’t pull anything out of the damp ground. The years have been marked by other events – events which have not felt bound by barriers of ritual or time.

I stood this evening to count the Omer and had to wonder: When was the last time I’ve done a ritual?

In fact, I do commit myself to many rituals a day, from handwashing in the morning to the recitation of Shema in the evening, blessings before eating and after going to the toilet. And with all of this, tonight I realized how much I craved some more. The time has come for growth again, because we are ready for growth. In an era defined by one’s ability or survive, spiritual growth seems like a luxury. Yet it can also be a restorative practice for those who must attune themselves to their spiritual status, so that it doesn’t get lost in the constant state of emergency of our world.

See it this way:

Sefirat ha’Omer is a play on words.

ספירת העומר

ספירת האומר

The first instance is the ritual we know: Sefirat ha’Omer. The counting of 7 full weeks until the completion of the harvest, until Shavuot.

The second instance is the ritual gifted to us by the elasticity of the Hebrew language. “Sefirah” can mean counting; it can also mean story. Sefirat: the telling of the story of.

“Ha’Omer,” when spelled with an alef rather than an ayin, means the speaker. The sayer. The teller. The one who, for the first time in three years, raises. Her. Voice.Writes things, tells things, says things. At the core of all of this – thinks things. Allows herself to think, for herself, by herself, within the limits of her body.

Tiferet she’b’chessed. The beauty of giving. On Day 3, I bless you with the reactivation of a voice lost. Inevitably, you have something brewing within, something deeply beautiful, that is worth sharing with at least one other, that will make a difference.

The photo is of broken-down wooden bedframes, which we used until the beginning of Pesach to house refugees from Ukraine. This is our work, going from emergency to ritual, preparing the space for a Seder instead of a hostel. There is also an empty beer and some art created by our students.