Day 2
Two Slips
There is a piece of Jewish wisdom that suggests everyone should carry two slips of paper with them at all times, in separate pockets.
On one slip should be written the words, "I am but dust and ashes."
On the other, "The world was created for me."
The trick to a good life, it is said, is knowing which slip to reach for in any given moment.
I love this story, because I have a tendency to try and take all of the advice I hear, all at once, without stopping to wonder whether it is even meant for me, or best for me.
During the month of Elul, as we dig into our souls and search for the wounded places, those where we need to be forgiven and where we need to forgive, I encourage you to remember the two slips of paper. Not all advice, not all demands, are made equally of all people at all times.
This may be the year you need to focus on forgiveness from yourself. Or, you may be ready to move on to asking for and offering forgiveness to others.
I trust you to determine for yourself, in conversation with G!d, where you need to attend to forgiveness as the year ends.
by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat
Teshuvah
God and I collaborate
on revising the poem of myself.
I decide what needs polishing,
what to preserve and what to lose;
God reads my draft with pursed lips.
If I really mean it, God
sings a new song, one strong
as stone and serene as silk.
I want this year’s poem
to be joyful. I want this year’s poem
to be measured like flour,
to burn like sweet dry maple.
I want every reader
to come away more certain
that transformation is possible.
I’d like holiness
to fill my words
and my empty spaces.
On Rosh Hashanah it is written
and on Yom Kippur it is sealed:
who will be a haiku and who
a sonnet, who needs meter
and who free verse, who an epic
and who a single syllable.
If I only get one sound
may it be yes, may I be One.
The Language of Forgiveness
Our little Elul minyan (group of 10 or more pray-ers) is quite diverse. Some of us are Jews, some are Jewish-adjacent, and others still are not Jewish or even particularly religious for that matter.
Still, the only authentic way for me to guide you in the work we will be doing this month is from my own place of spiritual grounding. So while we are doing universal work, listening to our spirit, discerning forgiveness, and turning toward life, we will be using the particular tools of the Jewish tradition.
I believe in using traditional tools in nontraditional ways, so as we explore Psalm 27 and religious language such as God, sin, and atonement, I invite and encourage you to spend some time thinking about what those words mean to you, and how you engage with scripture. You may even wish to hold open space for new understandings to arise this month.
I am working to create a space where we can all feel safe to explore the tender places this work will expose. And I am still learning as well; my own ideas about scripture, God, and even Jewish practice are growing and evolving. I'll be honest—I created this program as much for me as for you, to create a community of practice and exploration.
If you need some help thinking through how you approach these traditional tools, I am here to support you.
What to expect from this Tarot for self-reflection archive
This archive contains 24 posts, most a little shorter than this one, with some quotes and prompts for reflection, a few lines of Psalm 27, and a Tarot card.
These come together in the form of a question for you to consider. If you have your own Tarot deck or app (there are several on the app store for free!), you might meditate on this question and then draw a card or three to help you reflect further on your own answer.
You should use the card as you see fit—it is a shofar blast, a wake-up call. But what you see when you open your eyes, what's on your calendar for the day, is unique to you. I do strongly encourage you to find a place to write or record your reflections, however you engage them.
If you need extra support, I’m here for you. I'm eager to hear your reflections, and to learn about your experience of using Tarot as a wake-up call.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom should I be terrified?
Psalm 27:1
The work of teshuvah, of turning, can be fearful, terrifying, even. Whether we are facing our own inner demons and traumas or facing the wrong we have done others, sometimes it is hard to see that this is the work of life. Yet this is what we have determined to do this month. And we do not work alone. We are part of a greater whole, and each of us individually has our own resources, both internal and external.
As we prepare for the difficult work of this month (and, God willing, the blessings that will follow), take some time to wonder:
What is your light?
What is your stronghold? Where do you ground yourself as you stretch to your limits in the service of growth?
How has this shown up for you in the past, and how can you tap into it this month?