Yakim lanu et Sukat David hanofeletSeptember 29, 2010 at 12:54 pm | Posted in adamahniks, community, judaism, Sukkot | Leave a comment
As the Adamaniks, a microcosmic am yisrael, emerge from the sukkah this week, the mantra yakim lanu et sukkat david hanofelet, raise the shattered sparks of our Self, reverberates from my spirit. We have been spending our days in the fields harvesting the bounties of the summer as the autumn begins to slow the sadeh down. It is impossible not to shout out in awe at this sprouting bronze and rust landscape, at the misty fresh mornings, at the towering twelve foot tall sunflowers, or the site of a colony of brussel sprouts growing in the ground.
The field has become my temple. I can take a step back from the ego mind and become a steward in the humming ecosystem that is a function of so many vital and separate elements. I think of the Adamahniks of seasons past that put their love and sweat into preparing the fields and sowing seeds so that we can enter and join the throngs of work while we whistle songs of peace.
During Sukkahfest at Isabella Freedman we sat with community of all sorts, sang in the most goosebumps of harmony, and ate food from not even a mile away. This is something that I savor from this week. Like Avraham sat and welcomed guests from a tent of no sides, I think of sitting in this tent of three sides as gradually moving toward a space of Chesed, lovingkindness that Avraham incarnated. This concept can seem overwhelming to me. I have made intentions to reconnect with the earth, to learn about her seasons and how to protect and work in symbiosis with her. I have made intentions to feed myself and others consciously with an awareness of health and eco-kashrut and so as the new year and its Indian wedding of celebrations has flown by I stand by the value in living chesed, in living in a way that is creative and cooperative standing against destruction and division.
We learned this week in more ways than one of Rav Kook’s teaching to pray in the field so that the blades of grass and the shrubs of the field will come into our prayer strengthening our song. This again enlivens the work that we do by reconnecting with the land so that this, be it sowing or harvesting, laying compost or mulching becomes a prayer with nature which raises our voices in peace and communion.
Chag Sameach and Shana Tova!
Faryn-Beth Hart, Fall 2010 Fellow