And they Assembled
And Moses said dayam, enough.
Enough: enough
Stop, withdraw,
bring/do/perform/gather no more
Let the silver glare of a silent sanctuary,
the gold blue of a plane-less sky
the garnet sheen of an empty concert
be our sacred offering,
meager gifts of absence from wise and less
wise-hearted people.
Please G-d let our ceasing be enough.
Let our hospital beds be enough.
Let our slow awakening to the interconnectedness of every living being be enough.
Let a pillar of stillness rest at the entrance to every home and prison.
Let this plague pass over us, enough of us.
Enough.
--Rabbi Tamara Cohen
Stop: An Imagined Letter from Covid-19 to Humans
Stop. Just stop.
It is no longer a request. It is a mandate.
We will help you.
We will bring the supersonic, high speed merry-go-round to a halt.
We will stop
the planes
the trains
the schools
the malls
the meetings
the frenetic, furied rush of illusions and "obligations" that keep you from hearing our
single and shared beating heart,
the way we breathe together, in union.
Our obligation is to each other,
As it has always been, even if, even though, you have forgotten.
...
Stop.
Notice if you are resisting.
Notice what you are resisting.
And ask why.
Stop. Just stop.
Be still.
Listen.
...
-- Kristin Flyntz
Slaves of Time
The slaves of Time are the slaves of slaves;
Only one who is a slave of God is free.
Therefore, while everyone seeks their place, "I am with G-d," says my soul.
-- Yehuda Halevi
"I will awaken the dawn." Psalms 57:9. I awake the dawn, but the dawn does not awake me. One may perform the midnight rite even past midnight.
-- Solomon Ganzfried, Translation: Hyman E. Goldin
[The "midnight rite" here is Tikkun Chatzot: rising at midnight to study and pray for the Shechina (the presence of G-d).]
'Good morning,' said the little prince.
'Good morning,' said the merchant.
This was a merchant who sold pills that had been invented to quench thirst. You need only swallow one pill a week, and you would feel no need of anything to drink.
'Why are you selling those?' asked the little prince.
'Because they save a tremendous amount of time,' said the merchant. 'Computations have been made by experts. With these pills, you save fifty-three minutes in every week.'
'And what do I do with those fifty-three minutes?'
'Anything you like . . .'
'As for me,' said the little prince to himself, 'if I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked, I should walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water.'
-- Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Hillel would say: ... "Do not say 'When I free myself of my concerns, I will study,' for perhaps you will never free yourself."
A man doesn't have time in his life to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have a season for every purpose.
Ecclesiastes was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate
at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones
and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.
A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.
And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
He will die as figs die in autumn,
shrivelled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.
-- Yehuda Amichai (1920-2000), Translation: Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchel
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.”
--Annie Dillard
Grant me the ability to be alone;
may it be my custom to go outdoors each day
among the trees and grass - among all growing things
and there may I be alone, and enter into prayer,
to talk with the One to whom I belong.
May I express there everything in my heart,
and may all the foliage of the field -
all grasses, trees, and plants -
awake at my coming,
to send the powers of their life
into the words of my prayer
so that my prayer and speech are made whole
through the life and spirit of all growing things,
which are made as one by their transcendent Source.
May I then pour out the words of my heart
before your Presence like water, O L-rd,
and lift up my hands to You in worship,
on my behalf, and that of my children!
--Nachman of Bratslav (1772-1810)